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Southern  Branch 
of  the 

University  of  California 

Los  Angeles 

Form  L-1 


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UN 


IVIAY  9     194b 
OCT  18  ^••^ 


107n-4,'28 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 


AN  INLAND   VOYAGE. 

EDINBURGH. 

TRAVELS   WITH  A   DONKEY. 

VIRGINIBUS  PUERISQUE. 

FAMILIAR  STUDIES  OF  MEN  AND  BOOKS. 

NEW  ARABIAN  NIGHTS. 

TREASURE  ISLAND. 

THE  SILVERADO  SQUATTERS. 

A  CHILD'S  GARDEN  OF  VERSES. 

PRINCE   OTTO. 

STRANGE  CASE  OF  DR.  JEKYLL  AND   MR.  HYDE. 

KIDNAPPED. 

THE  MERRY  MEN  AND  OTHER  TALES  AND  FABLES. 

UNDERWOODS. 

MEMORIES  AND  PORTRAITS. 

MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN. 

THE  BLACK  ARROW. 

THE   MASTER   OF   BALLANTRAE. 

(WITH  MRS.  STEVENSON.) 
MORE  NEW  ARABIAN  NIGHTS  :   The  Dynamiter. 

(WITH  LLOYD  OSBOURNE.) 
THE   WRONG   BOX. 


"BALLADS 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2008  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/balladssteveOOstev 


BALLADS 


BY 

ROBERT  LOUIS  STEVENSON 


NEIV-YORK 
^  C^y^RLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 

^-  18  go 


TROWS 
NO  BOOKBINDING  COMPANY, 
NEW  YORK. 


1 


CONTENTS. 

THE  SONG  OF  RAHERO. 

Dedication  :  to  Ori  a  Ori 3 

I.  The  Slaying  of  Tamatea    5 

II.  The  Venging  of  TAmatea 13 

III.  Rahero 23 

Notes  to  the  Song  of  Rahero 31 

THE  FEAST  OF  FAMINE. 

I.  The  Priest's  Vigil 37 

II.  The  Lovers 40 

III.  The  Feast 45 

IV.  The  Raid 50 

Notes  to  the  Feast  of  Famine 55 

TICONDEROGA :  A  Legend  of  the  West  Highlands. 

I.  The  Saying  of  the  Name  59 

II.  The  Seeking  of  the  Name 65 

III.  The  Place  of  the  Name C8 

Notes  to  Ticonderoga 72 


HEATHER  ALE :   A  Galloway  Legend 75 

Note  to  Heather  Ale 79 


CHRISTMAS  AT  SEA. 


■83 


THE  SO(^CG  OF  %AHhiO 


TO  ORI  A  ORI. 


Ori,  my  brotlier  in  the  island  mode. 

In  every  tongue  and  meaning-  much  my  friend. 

This  story  of  your  coitntry  andyour  clan. 

In  your  loved  house,  your  too  mucit  honored  guest, 

I  made  in  English.     Take  it,  being  done; 

And  let  me  sign  it  viith  the  name  you  gave, 

TERIITERA. 


THE    SONG    OF    RAHERO  :     A    LEGEND    OF    TAHITI. 

I.      THE  SLAYING  OF  TAMATEA. 

It  fell  in  the  days  of  old,  as  the  men  of  Taiarapu  tell, 

A  youth  went  forth  to  the  fishing,  and  fortune  favored  him  well. 

Tamatea  his  name :  gullible,  simple,  and  kind, 

Comely  of  countenance,  nimble  of  body,  empty  of  mind, 

His  mother  ruled  him  and  loved  him  beyond  the  wont  of  a  wife. 

Serving  the  lad  for  eyes  and  living  herself  in  his  life. 

Alone  from  the  sea  and  the  fishing  came  Tamatea  the  fair. 
Urging  his  boat  to  the  beach,  and  the  mother  awaited  him  there, 
— "Long  may  you  live !  "  said  she.    "  Your  fishing  has  sped  to  a  wish. 
10  And  now  let  us  choose  for  the  king  the  fairest  of  all  your  fish. 
For  fear  inhabits  the  palace  and  grudging  grows  in  the  land. 
Marked  is  the  sluggardly  foot  and  marked  the  niggardly  hand. 
The  hours  and  the  miles  are  counted,  the  tributes  numbered  and  weighed, 
And  woe  to  him  that  comes  short,  and  woe  to  him  that  delayed  !  " 

5 


So  spoke  on  the  beach  the  mother,  and  counselled  the  wiser  thing. 
For  Rahero  stirred  in  the  country  and  secretly  mined  the  king. 
Nor  were  the  signals  wanting  of  how  the  leaven  wrought, 
In  the  cords  of  obedience  loosed  and  the  tributes  grudgingly  brought. 
And  when  last  to  the  temple  of  Oro  the  boat  with  the  victim  sped, 
20  And  the  priest  uncovered  the  basket  and  looked  on  the  face  of  the  dead, 
Trembling  fell  upon  all  at  sight  of  an  ominous  thing. 
For  there  was  the  aito  '  dead,  and  he  of  the  house  of  the  king. 

So  spake  on  the  beach  the  mother,  matter  worthy  of  note, 
And  wattled  a  basket  well,  and  chose  a  fish  from  the  boat ; 
And  Tamatea  the  pliable  shouldered  the  basket  and  went. 
And  travelled,  and  sang  as  he  travelled,  a  lad  that  was  well  content. 
Still  the  way  of  his  going  was  round  by  the  roaring  coast. 
Where  the  ring  of  the  reef  is  broke  and  the  trades  run  riot  the  most. 
On  his  left,  with  smoke  as  of  battle,  the  billows  battered  the  land ; 
30  Unscalable,  turretted  mountains  rose  on  the  inner  hand. 

And  cape,  and  village,  and  river,  and  vale,  and  mountain  above, 
Each  had  a  name  in  the  land  for  men  to  remember  and  love; 
And  never  the  name  of  a  place,  but  lo  !  a  song  in  its  praise : 
Ancient  and  unforgotten,  songs  of  the  earlier  days. 

That  the  elders  taught  to  the  young,  and  at  night,  in  the  full  of  the  moon, 
Garlanded  boys  and  maidens  sang  together  in  tune. 
Tamatea  the  placable  went  with  a  lingering  foot ; 
He  sang  as  loua  as  a  bird,  he  whistled  hoarse  as  a  flute ; 

6 


He  broiled  in  the  sun,  he  breathed  in  the  grateful  shadow  of  trees, 
40  In  the  icy  stream  of  the  rivers  he  waded  over  the  knees; 
And  still  in  his  empty  mind  crowded,  a  thousand-fold, 
The  deeds  of  the  strong  and  the  songs  of  the  cunning  heroes  of  old. 

And  now  was  he  come  to  a  place  Taiarapu  honored  the  most. 
Where  a  silent  valley  of  woods  debouched  on  the  noisy  coast, 
Spewing  a  level  river.     There  was  a  haunt  of  Pai.^ 
There,  in  his  potent  youth,  when  his  parents  drove  him  to  die, 
Honoura  lived  like  a  beast,  lacking  the  lamp  and  the  fire, 
Washed  by  the  rains  of  the  trade  and  clotting  his  hair  in  the  mire ; 
And  there,  so  mighty  his  hands,  he  bent  the  tree  to  his  foot  — 
50  So  keen  the  spur  of  his  hunger,  he  plucked  it  naked  of  fruit. 
There,  as  she  pondered  the  clouds  for  the  shadow  of  coming  ills, 
Ahupu,  the  woman  of  song,  walked  on  high  on  the  hills. 

Of  these  was  Rahero  sprung,  a  man  of  a  godly  race  ; 
And  inherited  cunning  of  spirit  and  beauty  of  body  and  face. 
Of  yore  in  his  youth,  as  an  aito,  Rahero  wandered  the  land, 
Delighting  maids  with  his  tongue,  smiting  men  with  his  hand. 
Famous  he  was  in  his  youth ;  but  before  the  midst  of  his  life 
Paused,  and  fashioned  a  song  of  farewell  to  glory  and  strife. 

(       House  of  mine  (it  went),  house  upon  the  sea, 
60  Beloved  of  all  ))iy  fathers,  more  belov\i  by  me/^ 

7 


Vale  of  the  strong  Honoura,  deep  ravine  of  Pat, 

Again  in  your  woody  summits  I  hear  the  trade-wind  cry. 

House  of  mine,  in  your  walls,  strong  sounds  the  sea, 

Of  all  sounds  on  earth,  dearest  sound  to  me. 

I  have  heard  the  applause  of  men,  I  have  heai'd  it  arise  ajtd  die: 

Sweeter  now  in  my  house  I  hear  the  trade-wind  cry.  I 

These  were  the  words  of  his  singing,  other  the  thought  of  his  heart ; 
For  secret  desire  of  glory  vexed  him,  dwelling  apart. 
Lazy  and  crafty  he  was,  and  loved  to  lie  in  the  sun, 
70  And  loved  the  cackle  of  talk  and  the  true  word  uttered  in  fun ; 
Lazy  he  was,  his  roof  was  ragged,  his  table  was  lean. 
And  the  fish  swam  safe  in  his  sea,  and  he  gathered  the  near  and  the  green. 
He  sat  in  his  house  and  laughed,  but  ho  loathed  the  king  of  the  land. 
And  he  uttered  the  grudging  word  under  the  covering  hand. 
Treason  spread  from  his  door  ;  and  he  looked  for  a  day  to  come, 
A  day  of  the  crowding  people,  a  day  of  the  summoning  drum. 
When  the  vote  should  be  taken,  the  king  be  driven  forth  in  disgrace. 
And  Rahdro,  the  laughing  and  lazy,  sit  and  rule  in  his  place. 

Here  Tamatea  came,  and  beheld  the  house  on  the  brook ; 
So  And  Rahero  was  there  by  the  way  and  covered  an  oven  to  cook.3 
Naked  he  was  to  the  loins,  but  the  tattoo  covered  the  lack. 
And  the  sun  and  the  shadow  of  palms  dappled  his  muscular  back. 


Swiftly  he  lifted  his  head  at  the  fall  of  the  coming  feet, 
And  the  water  sprang  in  his  mouth  with  a  sudden  desire  of  meat; 
For  he  marked  the  basket  carried,  covered  from  flies  and  the  sun ;  4 
And  Rahcro  buried  his  fire,  but  the  meat  in  his  house  was  done. 

Forth  he  stepped  ;  and  took,  and  delayed  the  boy,  by  the  hand ; 
And  vaunted  the  joys  of  meat  and  the  ancient  ways  of  the  land: 
— "  Our  sires  of  old  in  Taiarapu,  they  that  created  the  race, 
90     Ate  ever  with  eager  hand,  nor  regarded  season  or  place. 
Ate  in  the  boat  at  the  oar,  on  the  way  afoot ;  and  at  night 
Arose  in  the  midst  of  dreams  to  rummage  the  house  for  a  bite. 
It  is  good  for  the  youth  in  his  turn  to  follow  the  way  of  the  sire; 
And  behold  how  fitting  the  time !  for  here  do  I  cover  my  fire." 
— "  I  see  the  fire  for  the  cooking  but  never  the  meat  to  cook," 
Said  Tamatea. — "Tut!"  said  Rahero.     "  Here  in  the  brook 
And  there  in  the  tumbling  sea,  the  fishes  are  thick  as  flies, 
Hungry  like  healthy  men,  and  like  pigs  for  savor  and  size : 
Crayfish  crowding  the  river,  sea-fish  thronging  the  sea." 
100  — "  Well  it  may  be,"  says  the  other,  "and  yet  be  nothing  to  me. 
Fain  would  I  eat,  but  alas  !   I  liave  needful  matter  in  hand. 
Since  I  carry  my  tribute  of  fish  to  the  jealous  king  of  the  land." 

Now  at  the  word  a  light  sprang  in  Rahero's  eyes. 

"  I  will  gain  me  a  dinner,"  thought  he,  "and  lend  the  king  a  surprise." 


And  he  took  the  lad  by  the  arm,  as  they  stood  by  the  side  of  the  track, 
And  smiled,  and  rallied,  and  flattered,  and  pushed  him  forward  and  back. 
It  was  "You  that  sing  like  a  bird,  I  never  have  heard  you  sing," 
And  "  The  lads  when  I  was  a  lad  were  none  so  feared  of  a  king. 
And  of  what  account  is  an  hour,  when  the  heart  is  empty  of  guile  ? 
no  But  come,  and  sit  in  the  house  and  laugh  with  the  women  awhile; 
And  I  will  but  drop  my  hook,  and  behold  !  the  dinner  made." 

So  Tamatea  the  pliable  hung  up  his  fish  in  the  shade 

On  a  tree  by  the  side  of  the  way ;  and  Rahero  carried  him  in. 

Smiling  as  smiles  the  fowler  when  flutters  the  bird  to  the  gin, 

And  chose  him  a  shining  hook,5  and  viewed  it  with  sedulous  eye. 

And  breathed  and  burnished  it  well  on  the  brawn  of  his  naked  thigh, 

And  set  a  mat  for  the  gull,  and  bade  him  be  merry  and  bide, 

Like  a  man  concerned  for  his  guest,  and  the  fishing,  and  nothing  beside. 

Now  when  Rahero  was  forth,  he  paused  and  hearkened,  and  heard 
120  The  gull  jest  in  the  house  and  the  women  laugh  at  his  word; 
And  stealthily  crossed  to  the  side  of  the  way,  to  the  shady  place 
Where  the  basket  hung  on  a  mango ;  and  craft  transfigured  his  face. 
Deftly  he  opened  the  basket,  and  took  of  the  fat  of  the  fish. 
The  cut  of  kings  and  chieftains,  enough  for  a  goodly  dish. 
This  he  wrapped  in  a  leaf,  set  on  the  fire  to  cook 
And  buried;  and  next  the  marred  remains  of  the  tribute  he  took, 


And  doubled  and  packed  them  well,  and  covered  the  basket  close 
— "  There  is  a  buffet,  my  king,"  quoth  he,  "  and  a  nauseous  dose !  " — 
And  hung  the  basket  again  in  the  shade,  in  a  cloud  of  flies 
130  — "  And  there  is  a  sauce  to  your  dinner,  king  of  the  crafty  eyes  !  " 

Soon  as  the  oven  was  open,  the  fish  smelt  excellent  good. 
In  the  shade,  by  the  house  of  Rahero,  down  they  sat  to  their  food, 
And  cleared  the  leaves*   in  silence,  or  uttered  a  jest  and  laughed, 
And  raising  the  cocoanut  bowls,  buried  their  faces  and  quaffed. 
But  chiefly  in  silence  they  ate ;  and  soon  as  the  meal  was  done, 
Rahero  feigned  to  remember  and  measured  the  hour  by  the  sun, 
And  "  Tamatea,"  quoth  he,  "it  is  time  to  be  jogging,  my  lad." 

So  Tamatea  arose,  doing  ever  the  thing  he  was  bade. 
And  carelessly  shouldered  the  basket,  and  kindly  saluted  his  host ; 
140  And  again  the  way  of  his  going  was  round  by  the  roaring  coast. 
Long  he  went ;  and  at  length  was  aware  of  a  pleasant  green, 
And  the  stems  and  shadows  of  palms,  and  roofs  of  lodges  between 
There  sate,  in  the  door  of  his  palace,  the  king  on  a  kingly  seat, 
And  aitos  stood  armed  around,  and  the  yottowas  i  sat  at  his  feet. 
But  fear  was  a  worm  in  his  heart :  fear  darted  his  eyes  ; 
And  he  probed  men's  faces  for  treasons  and  pondered  their  speech  for  lies. 
To  him  came  Tamatea,  the  basket  slung  in  his  hand, 
And  paid  him  the  due  obeisance  standing  as  vassals  stand. 


In  silence  hearkened  the  king,  and  closed  the  eyes  in  his  face, 
150  Harboring  odious  thoughts  and  the  baseless  fears  of  the  base; 
In  silence  accepted  the  gift  and  sent  the  giver  away. 
So  TAmatea  departed,  turning  his  back  on  the  day. 

And  lo  !  as  the  king  sat  brooding,  a  rumor  rose  in  the  crowd ; 
The  yottowas  nudged  and  whispered,  the  commons  murmured  aloud  ; 
Tittering  fell  upon  all  at  sight  of  the  impudent  thing. 
At  the  sight  of  a  gift  unroyal  flung  in  the  face  of  a  king. 
And  the  face  of  the  king  turneu  -^"liite  and  red  with  anger  and  shame 
In  their  midst;  and  the  heart  in  his  body  was  water  and  then  was  flame; 
Till  of  a  sudden,  turning,  he  gripped  an  aito  hard, 
160  A  youth  that  stood  with  his  omare,^  one  of  the  daily  guard. 

And  spat  in  his  ear  a  command,  and  pointed  and  uttered  a  name, 
And  hid  in  the  shade  of  the  house  his  impotent  anger  and  shame. 

Now  Tamatea  the  fool  was  far  on  the  homeward  way. 
The  rising  night  in  his  face,  behind  him  the  dying  day. 
Rahero  saw  him  go  by,  and  the  heart  of  Rahero  was  glad. 
Devising  shame  to  the  king  and  nowise  harm  to  the  lad  ; 
And  all  that  dwelt  by  the  way  saw  and  saluted  him  well. 
For  he  had  the  face  of  a  friend  and  the  news  of  the  town  to  tell ; 
And  pleased  with  the  notice  of  folk,  and  pleased  that  his  journey  was  done, 
170  Tdmatea  drew  homeward,  turning  his  back  to  the  sun. 


And  now  was  the  hour  of  the  bath  in  Taiarapu :  far  and  near 

The  lovely  laughter  of  bathers  rose  and  delighted  his  ear. 

Night  massed  in  the  valleys  ;  the  sun  on  the  mountain  coast 

Struck,  end-long;  and  above  the  clouds  embattled  their  host,        [gems, 

And  glowed  and  gloomed  on  the  heights  ;  and  the  heads  of  the  palms  were 

And  far  to  the  rising  eve  extended  the  shade  of  their  stems ; 

And  the  shadow  of  Tamatea  hovered  already  at  home. 

And  sudden  the  sound  of  one  coming  and  running  light  as  the  foam 
Struck  on  his  ear  ;  and  he  turned,  ar  ^  lo !  a  man  on  his  track, 
i8o  Girded  and  armed  with  an  omare,  following  hard  at  his  back. 

At  a  bound  the  man  was  upon  him ;  —  and,  or  ever  a  word  was  said. 
The  loaded  end  of  the  omare  fell  and  laid  him  dead. 


II.    THE    VENGING    OF    TAMATEA. 

Thus  was  Rahero's  treason ;  thus  and  no  further  it  sped 
The  king  sat  safe  in  his  place  and  a  kindly  fool  was  dead. 

But  the  mother  of  Tamatea  arose  with  death  in  her  eyes. 
All  night  long,  and  the  next,  Taiarapu  rang  with  her  cries. 
As  when  a  babe  in  the  wood  turns  with  a  chill  of  doubt 
And  perceives  nor  home,  nor  friends,  for  the  trees  have  closed  her  about, 

13 


The  mountain  rings  and  her  breast  is  torn  with  the  voice  of  despair : 
190  So  the  lion-like  woman  idly  wearied  the  air 

For  awhile,  and  pierced  men's  hearing  in  vain,  and  wounded  their  hearts. 

But  as  when  the  weather  changes  at  sea,  in  dangerous  parts, 

And  sudden  the  hurricane  wrack  unrolls  up  the  front  of  the  sky. 

At  once  the  ship  lies  idle,  the  sails  hang  silent  on  high. 

The  breath  of  the  wind  that  blew  is  blown  out  like  the  flame  of  a  lamp. 

And  the  silent  armies  of  death  draw  near  with  inaudible  tramp : 

So  sudden,  the  voice  of  her  weeping  ceased ;  in  silence  she  rose 

And  passed  from  the  house  of  her  sorrow,  a  woman  clothed  with  repose, 

Carrying  death  in  her  breast  and  sharpening  death  with  her  hand. 

200  Hither  she  went  and  thither  in  all  the  coasts  of  the  land. 

They  tell  that  she  feared  not  to  slumber  alone,  in  the  dead  of  night, 

In  accursed  places  ;  beheld,  unblenched,  the  ribbon  of  light  9 

Spin  from  temple  to  temple ;  guided  the  perilous  skiff, 

Abhorred  not  the  paths  of  the  mountain  and  trod  the  verge  of  the  cliff; 

From  end  to  end  of  the  island,  thought  not  the  distance  long, 

But  forth  from  king  to  king  carried  the  tale  of  her  wrong. 

To  king  after  king,  as  they  sat  in  the  palace  door,  she  came. 

Claiming  kinship,  declaiming  verses,  naming  her  name 

And  the  names  of  all  of  her  fathers  ;  and  still,  with  a  heart  on  the  rack, 

210  Jested  to  capture  a  hearing  and  laughed  when  they  jested  back  : 
So  would  deceive  them  awhile,  and  change  and  return  in  a  breath, 
And  on  all  the  men  of  Vaiau  imprecate  instant  death ; 

14 


And  tempt  her  kings  —  for  Vaiau  was  a  rich  and  prosperous  land, 
And  flatter  —  for  who  would  attempt  it  but  warriors  mighty  of  hand  ? 
And  change  in  a  breath  again  and  rise  in  a  strain  of  song, 
Invoking  the  beaten  drums,  beholding  the  fall  of  the  strong, 
Calling  the  fowls  of  the  air  to  come  and  feast  on  the  dead. 
And  they  held  the  chin  in  silence,  and  heard  her,  and  shook  the  head ; 
For  they  knew  the  men  of  Taiarapu  famous  in  battle  and  feast, 
220  Marvellous  eaters  and  smiters :  the  men  of  Vaiau  not  least. 

To  the  land  of  the  Namunu-ura,"  to  Paea,  at  length  she  came. 
To  men  who  were  foes  to  the  Tevas  and  hated  their  race  and  name. 
There  was  she  well  received,  and  spoke  with  Hiopa  the  king." 
And  Hiopa  listened,  and  weighed,  and  wisely  considered  the  thing. 
"  Here  in  the  back  of  the  isle  we  dwell  in  a  sheltered  place," 
Quoth  he  to  the  woman,  "  in  quiet,  a  weak  and  peaceable  race. 
But  far  in  the  teeth  of  the  wind  lofty  Taidrapu  lies ; 
Strong  blows  the  wind  of  the  trade  on  its  seaward  face,  and  cries 
Aloud  in  the  top  of  arduous  mountains,  and  utters  its  song 
230  In  green  continuous  forests.     Strong  is  the  wind,  and  strong 
And  fruitful  and  hardy  the  race,  famous  in  battle  and  feast. 
Marvellous  eaters  and  smiters  :  the  men  of  Vaiau  not  least. 
Now  hearken  to  me,  my  daughter,  and  hear  a  word  of  the  wise : 
How  a  strength  goes  linked  with  a  weakness,  two  by  two,  like  the  eyes. 
They  can  wield  the  omare  well  and  cast  the  javelin  far ; 
Yet  are  they  greedy  and  weak  as  the  swine  and  the  children  are. 


Plant  we,  then,  here  at  Paea,  a  garden  of  excellent  fruits ; 
Plant  we  bananas  and  kava  and  taro,  the  king  of  roots; 
Let  the  pigs  in  Paea  be  tapu  "  and  no  man  fish  for  a  year : 

240  And  of  all  the  meat  in  Tahiti  gather  we  threefold  here. 
So  shall  the  fame  of  our  plenty  fill  the  island,  and  so. 
At  last,  on  the  tongue  of  rumor,  go  where  we  wish  it  to  go. 
Then  shall  the  pigs  of  Taiarapu  raise  their  snouts  in  the  air; 
But  we  sit  quiet  and  wait,  as  the  fowler  sits  by  the  snare. 
And  tranquilly  fold  our  hands,  till  the  pigs  come  nosing  the  food  : 
But  meanwhile  build  us  a  house  of  Trotea,  the  stubborn  wood, 
Bind  it  with  incombustible  thongs,  set  a  roof  to  the  room, 
Too  strong  for  the  hands  of  a  man  to  dissever  or  fire  to  consume; 
And  there,  when  the  pigs  come  trotting,  there  shall  the  feast  be  spread, 

250  There  shall  the  eye  of  the  morn  enlighten  the  feasters  dead. 
So  be  it  done ;  for  I  have  a  heart  that  pities  your  state, 
And  Nateva  and  Namunu-iira  are  fire  and  water  for  hate." 

All  was  done  as  he  said,  and  the  gardens  prospered ;  and  now 
The  fame  of  their  plenty  went  out,  and  word  of  it  came  to  Vaiau. 
For  the  men  of  Namunu-iira  sailed,  to  the  windward  far. 
Lay  in  the  offing  by  south  where  the  towns  of  the  Tevas  are. 
And  cast  overboard  of  their  plenty  ;  and  lo !  at  the  Tevas'  feet 
The  surf  on  all  of  the  beaches  tumbled  treasures  of  meat. 
In  the  salt  of  the  sea,  a  harvest  tossed  with  the  refluent  foam ; 
260  And  the  children  gleaned  it  in  playing,  and  ate  and  carried  it  home ; 

16 


And  the  elders  stared  and  debated,  and  wondered  and  passed  the  jest, 
But  whenever  a  guest  came  by  eagerly  questioned  the  guest; 
And  little  by  little,  from  one  to  another,  the  word  went  round : 
"In  all  the  borders  of  Paea  the  victual  rots  on  the  ground, 
And  swine  are  plenty  as  rats.     And  now,  when  they  fare  to  the  sea. 
The  men  of  the  Namunu-ura  glean  from  under  the  tree 
And  load  the  canoe  to  the  gunwale  with  all  that  is  toothsome  to  eat ; 
And  all  day  long  on  the  sea  the  jaws  are  crushing  the  meat, 
The  steersman  eats  at  the  helm,  the  rowers  munch  at  the  oar, 
270  And  at  length,  when  their  bellies  are  full,  overboard  with  the  store !  " 
Now  was  the  word  made  true,  and  soon  as  the  bait  was  bare, 
All  the  pigs  of  Taiarapu  raised  their  snouts  in  the  air. 
Spngs  were  recited,  and  kinship  was  counted,  and  tales  were  told 
How  war  had  severed  of  late  but  peace  had  cemented  of  old 
The  clans  of  the  island,     "  To  war,"  said  they,  "  now  set  we  an  end. 
And  hie  to  the  Namunu-ura  even  as  a  friend  to  a  friend." 

So  judged,  and  a  day  was  named ;  and  soon  as  the  morning  broke, 
Canoes  were  thrust  in  the  sea  and  the  houses  emptied  of  folk. 
Strong  blew  the  wind  of  the  south,  the  wind  that  gathers  the  clan  ; 
280  Along  all  the  line  of  the  reef  the  clamorous  surges  ran  ; 

And  the  clouds  were  piled  on  the  top  of  the  island  mountain-high, 
A  mountain  throned  on  a  mountain.  The  fleet  of  canoes  swept  by 
In  the  midst,  on  the  green  lagoon,  with  a  crew  released  from  care. 
Sailing  an  even  water,  breathing  a  summer  air, 

17 


Cheered  by  a  cloudless  sun;  and  ever  to  left  and  right, 
Bursting  surge  on  the  reef,  drenching  storms  on  the  height. 
So  the  folk  of  Vaiau  sailed  and  were  glad  all  day, 
Coasting  the  palm-tree  cape  and  crossing  the  populous  bay 
By  all  the  towns  of  the  Tevas ;  and  still  as  they  bowled  along, 
290  Boat  would  answer  to  boat  with  jest  and  laughter  and  song, 
And  the  people  of  all  the  towns  trooped  to  the  sides  of  the  sea 
And  gazed  from  under  the  hand  or  sprang  aloft  on  the  tree, 
Hailing  and  cheering.     Time  failed  them  for  more  to  do ; 
The  holiday  village  careened  to  the  wind,  and  was  gone  from  view 
Swift  as  a  passing  bird  ;  and  ever  as  onward  it  bore. 
Like  the  cry  of  the  passing  bird,  bequeathed  its  song  to  the  shore  — 
Desirable  laughter  of  maids  and  the  cry  of  delight  of  the  child. 
And  the  gazer,  left  behind,  stared  at  the  wake  and  smiled. 

By  all  the  towns  of  the  Tevas  they  went,  and  Papara  last, 
300  The  home  of  the  chief,  the  place  of  muster  in  war ;  and  passed 
The  march  of  the  lands  of  the  clan,  to  the  lands  of  an  alien  folk. 
And  there,  from  the  dusk  of  the  shoreside  palms,  a  column  of  smoke 
Mounted  and  wavered  and  died  in  the  gold  of  the  setting  sun, 
"  Paea !  "  they  cried.     "  It  is  Paea."     And  so  was  the  voyage  done. 

In  the  early  fall  of  the  night,  Hiopa  came  to  the  shore, 

And  beheld  and  counted  the  comers,  and  lo,  they  were  forty  score : 


18 


The  pelting  feet  of  the  babes  that  ran  already  and  played, 

The  clean-lipped  smile  of  the  boy,  the  slender  breasts  of  the  maid, 

And  mighty  limbs  of  women,  stalwart  mothers  of  men. 

310  The  sires  stood  forth  unabashed;  but  a  Httleback  from  his  ken 
Clustered  the  scarcely  nubile,  the  lads  and  maids,  in  a  ring, 
Fain  of  each  other,  afraid  of  themselves,  aware  of  the  king 
And  aping  behavior,  but  clinging  together  with  hands  and  eyes. 
With  looks  that  were  kind  like  kisses,  and  laughter  tender  as  sighs. 
There,  too,  the  grandsire  stood,  raising  his  silver  crest, 
And  the  impotent  hands  of  a  suckling  groped  in  his  barren  breast. 
The  childhood  of  love,  the  pair  well  married,  the  innocent  brood, 
The  tale  of  the  generations  repeated  and  ever  renewed  — 
Hiopa  beheld  them  together,  all  the  ages  of  man, 

320  And  a  moment  shook  in  his  purpose. 

But  these  were  the  foes  of  his  clan. 
And  he  trod  upon  pity,  and  came,  and  civilly  greeted  the  king, 
And  gravely  entreated  Rahero;  and  for  all  that  could  fight  or  sing, 
And  claimed  a  name  in  the  land,  had  fitting  phrases  of  praise ; 
But  wdth  all  who  were  well-descended  he  spoke  of  the  ancient  days. 
And  '"Tis  true,"  said  he,  "  that  in  Paea  the  victual  rots  on  the  ground  ; 
But,  friends,  your  number  is  many ;   and  pigs  must  be  hunted  and  found, 
And  the  lads  troop  to  the  mountains  to  bring  the  feis  down, 
And  around  the  bowls  of  the  kava  cluster  the  maids  of  the  town. 


19 


330  So,  for  to-night,  sleep  here ;  but  king,  common,  and  priest 
To-morrow,  in  order  due,  shall  sit  with  me  in  the  feast." 
Sleepless  the  live-long  night,  Hiopa's  followers  toiled. 
The  pigs  screamed  and  were  slaughtered ;  the  spars  of  the  guest-house  oiled. 
The  leaves  spread  on  the  floor.     In  many  a  mountain  glen 
The  moon  drew  shadows  of  trees  on  the  naked  bodies  of  men 
Plucking  and  bearing  fruits  ;  and  in  all  the  bounds  of  the  town 
Red  glowed  the  cocoanut  fires,  and  were  buried  and  trodden  down. 
Thus  did  seven  of  the  yottowas  toil  with  their  tale  of  the  clan. 
But  the  eighth  wrought  with  his  lads,  hid  from  the  sight  of  man. 

340  In  the  deeps  of  the  woods  they  laboured,  piling  the  fuel  high 
In  fagots,  the  load  of  a  man,  fuel  seasoned  and  dry. 
Thirsty  to  seize  upon  fire  and  apt  to  blurt  into  flame. 

And  now  was  the  day  of  the  feast.     The  forests,  as  morning  came. 
Tossed  in  the  wind,  and  the  peaks  quaked  in  the  blaze  of  the  day 
And  the  cocoanuts  showered  on  the  ground,  rebounding  and  rolling  away : 
A  glorious  morn  for  a  feast,  a  famous  wind  for  a  fire. 
To  the  hall  of  feasting  Hiopa  led  them,  mother  and  sire 
And  maid  and  babe  in  a  tale,  the  whole  of  the  holiday  throng. 
Smiling  they  came,  garlanded  green,  not  dreaming  of  wrong; 
350  And  for  every  three,  a  pig,  tenderly  cooked  in  the  ground. 
Waited;  and  fei,  the  stafi"of  life,  heaped  in  a  mound 
For  each  where  he  sat ;  —  for  each,  bananas  roasted  and  raw 
Piled  with  a  bountiful  hand,  as  for  horses  hav  and  straw 


Are  stacked  in  a  stable ;  and  fish,  the  food  of  desire, '3 
And  plentiful  vessels  of  sauce,  and  breadfruit  gilt  in  the  fire ;  — 
And  kava  was  common  as  water.     Feasts  have  there  been  ere  now, 
And  many,  but  never  a  feast  like  that  of  the  folk  of  Vaiau. 

All  day  long  they  ate  with  the  resolute  greed  of  brutes, 
And  turned  from  the  pigs  to  the  fish,  and  again  from  the  fish  to  the  fruits, 
360  And  emptied  the  vessels  of  sauce,  and  drank  of  the  kava  deep ; 

Till  the  young  lay  stupid  as  stones,  and  the  strongest  nodded  to  sleep. 
Sleep  that  was  mighty  as  death  and  blind  as  a  moonless  night 
Tethered  them  hand  and  foot ;  and  their  souls  were  drowned,  and  the  light 
Was  cloaked  from  their  eyes.     Senseless  together,  the  old  and  the  young, 
The  fighter  deadly  to  smite  and  the  prater  cunning  of  tongue. 
The  woman  wedded  and  fruitful,  inured  to  the  pangs  of  birth. 
And  the  maid  that  knew  not  of  kisses,  blindly  sprawled  on  the  earth. 

From  the  hall  Hiopa  the  king  and  his  chiefs  came  stealthily  forth. 
Already  the  sun  hung  low  and  enlightened  the  peaks  of  the  north; 
370  But  the  wind  was  stubborn  to  die  and  blew  as  it  blows  at  morn, 
Showering  the  nuts  in  the  dusk,  and  e'en  as  a  banner  is  torn, 
High  on  the  peaks  of  the  island,  shattered  the  mountain  cloud. 
And  now  at  once,  at  a  signal,  a  silent,  emulous  crowd 
Set  hands  to  the  work  of  death,  hurrying  to  and  fro, 
Like  ants,  to  furnish  the  fagots,  building  them  broad  and  low, 


And  piling  them  higli  and  higher  around  the  walls  of  the  hall. 
Silence  persisted  within,  for  sleep  lay  heavy  on  all. 
But  the  mother  of  Tamatea  stood  at  Iliopa's  side, 
And  shook  for  terror  and  joy  like  a  girl  that  is  a  bride. 
380  Night  fell  on  the  toilers,  and  first  Hiopa  the  wise 

Made  the  round  of  the  house,  visiting  all  with  his  eyes ; 

And  all  was  piled  to  the  eaves,  and  fuel  blockaded  the  door ; 

And  within,  in  the  liouse  beleaguered,  slumbered  the  forty  score. 

Then  was  an  aito  dispatched  and  came  with  fire  in  his  hand, 

And  Iliopa  took  it. — "  Within,"  said  he,  "  is  the  life  of  a  land ; 

And  behold !   I  breathe  on  the  coal,  I  breathe  on  the  dales  of  the  east, 

And  silence  falls  on  forest  and  shore ;  the  voice  of  the  feast 

Is  quenched,  and  the  smoke  of  cooking ;  the  rooflree  decays  and  falls 

On  the  empty  lodge,  and  the  winds  subvert  deserted  walls." 

390  Therewithal,  to  the  fuel,  he  laid  the  glowing  coal; 

And  the  redness  ran  in  the  mass  and  burrowed  within  like  a  mole, 

And  copious  smoke  was  conceived.     But,  as  when  a  dam  is  to  burst, 

The  water  lips  it  and  crosses  in  silver  trickles  at  first, 

And  then,  of  a  sudden,  whelms  and  bears  it  away  forthright : 

So  now,  in  a  moment,  the  flame  sprang  and  towered  in  the  night. 

And  wrestled  and  roared  in  the  wind,  and  high  over  house  and  tree. 

Stood,  like  a  streaming  torch,  enlightening  land  and  sea. 

But  the  mother  of  Tamatea  threw  her  arms  abroad, 

"  Pyre  of  my  son,"  she  sliouted,  "  debited  vengeance  of  God, 


400  Late,  late,  I  behold  you,  yet  I  behold  you  at  last, 

And  glory,  beholding !     For  now  are  the  days  of  my  agony  past, 
The  lust  that  famished  my  soul  now  eats  and  drinks  its  desire, 
And  they  that  encompassed  my  son  shrivel  alive  in  the  fire. 
Tenfold  precious  the  vengeance  that  comes  after  lingering  years  ! 
Ye  quenched  the  voice  of  my  singer  ?  —  hark,  in  your  dying  ears, 
The  song  of  the  conflagration  !     Ye  left  me  a  widow  alone  ? 
—  Behold,  the  whole  of  your  race  consumes,  sinew  and  bone 
And  torturing  flesh  together  :   man,  mother,  and  maid 
Heaped  in  a  common  shambles  ;  and  already,  borne  by  the  trade, 

410  The  smoke  of  your  dissolution  darkens  the  stars  of  night." 

Thus  she  spoke,  and  her  stature  grew  in  the  people's  sight. 


III.     RAHERO. 

Rahero  was  there  in  the  hall  asleep  :  beside  him  his  wife, 
Comely,  a  mirthful  woman,  one  that  delighted  in  life; 
And  a  girl  that  was  ripe  for  marriage,  shy  and  sly  as  a  mouse ; 
And  a  boy,  a  climber  of  trees  :  all  the  hopes  of  his  house. 
Unwary,  with  open  hands,  he  slept  in  the  midst  of  his  folk. 
And  dreamed  that  he  heard  a  voice  crying  without,  and  awoke. 
Leaping  blindly  afoot  like  one  from  a  dream  that  he  fears. 
A  hellish  glow  and  clouds  were  abmu  him  ;  —  it  roared  in  his  ears 

23 


420  Like  the  sound  of  the  cataract  fall  that  plunges  sudden  and  steep ; 

And  Rahero  swayed  as  he  stood,  and  his  reason  was  still  asleep. 

Now  the  flame  struck  hard  on  the  house,  wind-wielded,  a  fracturing  blow. 

And  the  end  of  the  roof  was  burst  and  fell  on  the  sleepers  below ; 

And  the  lofty  hall,  and  the  feast,  and  the  prostrate  bodies  of  folk. 

Shone  red  in  his  eyes  a  moment,  and  then  were  swallowed  of  smoke. 

In  the  mind  of  Rahero  clearness  came;  and  he  opened  his  throat ; 

And  as  when  a  squall  comes  sudden,  the  straining  sail  of  a  boat 

Thunders  aloud  and  bursts,  so  thundered  the  voice  of  the  man. 

—  "  The  wind  and  the  rain  !  "  he  shouted,  the  mustering  word  of  the  clan,i4 
430  And  "up!  "  and  "  to  arms,  men  of  Vaiau!  "     But  silence  replied, 

Or  only  the  voice  of  the  gusts  of  the  fire,  and  nothing  beside. 

Rahero  stooped  and  groped.     He  handled  his  womankind. 

But  the  fumes  of  the  fire  and  the  kava  had  quenched  the  life  of  their  mind. 

And  they  lay  like  pillars  prone ;  and  his  hand  encountered  the  boy, 

And  there  sprang  in  the  gloom  of  his  soul  a  sudden  lightning  of  joy. 

"  Him  can  I  save  !  "  he  thought,  "  if  I  were  speedy  enough." 

And  heloosened  the  cloth  from  his  loins,  and  swaddled  the  child  in  the  stuff; 

And  about  the  strength  of  his  neck  he  knotted  the  burden  well. 

There  where  the  roof  had  fallen,  it  roared  like  the  mouth  of  hell. 
440  Thither  Rahero  went,  stumbling  on  senseless  folk, 

And  grappled  a  post  of  the  house,  and  began  to  climb  in  the  smoke : 
The  last  alive  of  Vaiau :  and  the  son  borne  by  the  sire. 
The  post  glowed  in  the  grain  with  ulcers  of  eating  fire, 

24 


And  the  fire  bit  to  the  blood  and  mangled  his  hands  and  thighs; 
And  the  fumes  sang  in  his  head  like  wine  and  stung  in  his  eyes  ; 
And  still  he  climbed,  and  came  to  the  top,  the  place  of  proof, 
And  thrust  a  hand  through  the  flame,  and  clambered  alive  on  the  roof. 
But  even  as  he  did  so,  the  wind,  in  a  garment  of  flames  and  pain, 
Wrapped  him  from  head  to  heel ;  and  the  waistcloth  parted  in  twain ; 
450  And  the  living  fruit  of  his  loins  dropped  in  the  fire  below. 

About  the  blazing  feast-house  clustered  the  eyes  of  the  foe. 
Watching,  hand  upon  weapon,  lest  ever  a  soul  should  flee, 
Shading  the  brow  from  the  glare,  straining  the  neck  to  see. 
Only,  to  leeward,  the  flames  in  the  wind  swept  far  and  wide, 
And  the  forest  sputtered  on  fire;  and  there  might  no  man  abide. 
Thither  Rahero  crept,  and  dropped  from  the  burning  eaves, 
And  crouching  low  to  the  ground,  in  a  treble  covert  of  leaves 
And  fire  and  volleying  smoke,  ran  for  the  life  of  his  soul 
Unseen ;  and  behind  him  under  a  furnace  of  ardent  coal, 
460  Cairned  with  a  wonder  of  flame,  and  blotting  the  night  with  smoke. 
Blazed  and  were  smelted  together  the  bones  of  all  his  folk. 

He  fled  unguided  at  first ;  but  hearing  the  breakers  roar, 
Thitherward  shaped  his  way,  and  came  at  length  to  the  shore. 
Sound-limbed  he  Avas :  dry-eyed;  but  smarted  in  every  part; 
And  the  mighty  cage  of  his  ribs  heaved  on  his  straining  heart 
With  sorrow  and  rage.     And  "  Fools  !  "  he  cried,  "  fools  of  Vaiau, 
Heads  of  swine — gluttons  —  Alas!  and  where  are  they  now? 

25 


Those  that  I  played  with,  those  that  nursed  me,  those  that  I  nursed  ? 
God,  and  I  outliving  them  !     I,  the  least  and  the  worst  — 
470  I,  that  thought  myself  crafty,  snared  by  this  herd  of  swine. 

In  the  tortures  of  hell  and  desolate,  stripped  of  all  that  was  mine : 
All !  —  my  friends  and  my  fathers  —  the  silver  heads  of  yore 
That  trooped  to  the  council,  the  children  that  ran  to  the  open  door 
Crying  with  innocent  voices  and  clasping  a  father's  knees  ! 
And  mine,  my  wife  —  my  daughter  —  my  sturdy  climber  of  trees, 
Ah,  never  to  climb  again  !  " 

Thus  in  the  dusk  of  the  night, 
(For  clouds  rolled  in  the  sky  and  the  moon  was  swallowed  from  sight,) 
Pacing  and  gnawing  his  fists,  Rahero  raged  by  the  shore. 
480  Vengeance :  that  must  be  his.     But  much  was  to  do  before; 
And  first  a  single  life  to  be  snatched  from  a  deadly  place, 
A  life,  the  root  of  revenge,  surviving  plant  of  the  race  : 
And  next  the  race  to  be  raised  anew,  and  the  lands  of  the  clan 
Repeopled.     So  Rahero  designed,  a  prudent  man 
Even  in  wrath,  and  turned  for  the  means  of  revenge  and  escape : 
A  boat  to  be  seized  by  stealth,  a  wife  to  be  taken  by  rape. 

Still  was  the  dark  lagoon ;  beyond  on  the  coral  wall. 
He  saw  the  breakers  shine,  he  heard  them  bellow  and  fall. 
Alone,  on  the  top  of  the  reef,  a  man  with  a  flaming  brand 
490  Walked,  gazing  and  pausing,  a  fish-spear  poised  in  his  hand. 

26 


The  foam  boiled  to  his  calf  when  the  mightier  breakers  came, 
And  the  torch  shed  in  the  wind  scattering  tufts  of  flame. 
Afar  on  the  dark  lagoon  a  canoe  lay  idly  at  wait : 
A  figure  dimly  guiding  it :   surely  the  fisherman's  mate. 
Rahero  saw  and  he  smiled.     He  straightened  his  mighty  thews  : 
Naked,  with  never  a  weapon,  and  covered  with  scorch  and  bruise, 
He  straightened  his  arms,  he  filled  the  void  of  his  body  with  breath. 
And,  strong  as  the  wind  in  his  manhood,  doomed  the  fisher  to  death. 

Silent  he  entered  the  water,  and  silently  swam,  and  came 
500  There  where  the  fisher  walked,  holding  on  high  the  flame. 
Loud  on  the  pier  of  the  reef  volleyed  the  breach  of  the  sea  ; 
And  hard  at  the  back  of  the  man,  Rahero  crept  to  his  knee 
On  the  coral,  and  suddenly  sprang  and  seized  him,  the  elder  hand 
Clutching  the  joint  of  his  throat,  the  other  snatching  the  brand 
Ere  it  had  time  to  fall,  and  holding  it  steady  and  high. 
Strong  was  the  fisher,  brave,  and  swift  of  mind  and  of  eye  — 
Strongly  he  threw  in  the  clutch ;  but  Rahero  resisted  the  strain, 
And  jerked,  and  the  spine  of  life  snapped  with  a  crack  in  twain. 
And  the  man  came  slack  in  his  hands  and  tumbled  a  lump  at  his  feet. 

510  One  moment :   and  there,  on  the  reef,  where  the  breakers  whitened  and 
Rahero  was  standing  alone,  glowing  and  scorched  and  bare,  [beat, 

A  victor  unknown  of  any,  raising  the  torch  in  the  air. 

27 


But  once  he  drank  of  his  breath,  and  instantly  set  him  to  fish 
Like  a  man  intent  upon  supper  at  home  and  a  savory  dish. 
For  what  should  the  woman  have  seen  ?     A  man  with  a  torch  —  and  then 
A  moment's  blur  of  the  eyes  —  and  a  man  with  a  torch  again. 
And  the  torch  had  scarcely  been  shaken.     "Ah,  surely,"  Rahero  said, 
"  She  will  deem  it  a  trick  of  the  eyes,  a  fancy  born  in  the  head ; 
But  time  must  be  given  the  fool  to  nourish  a  fool's  belief." 
520  So  for  a  while,  a  sedulous  fisher,  he  walked  the  reef, 

Pausing  at  times  and  gazing,  striking  at  times  with  the  spear : 

—  Lastly,  uttered  the  call;  and  even  as  the  boat  drew  near. 

Like  a  man  that  was  done  with  its  use,  tossed  the  torch  in  the  sea. 

Lightly  he  leaped  on  the  boat  beside  the  woman  ;  and  she 
Lightly  addressed  him,  and  yielded  the  paddle  and  place  to  sit ; 
For  now  the  torch  was  extinguished  the  night  was  black  as  the  pit. 
Rahero  set  him  to  row,  never  a  word  he  spoke, 
And  the  boat  sang  in  the  water  urged  by  his  vigorous  stroke. 
— "  What  ails  you  ?  "  the  woman  asked, "  and  why  did  you  drop  the  brand  ? 
530  We  have  only  to  kindle  another  as  soon  as  we  come  to  land." 
Never  a  word  Rahero  replied,  but  urged  the  canoe. 
And  a  chill  fell  on  the  woman. — "  Atta !  speak  !  is  it  you  ? 
Speak  !     Why  are  you  silent  ?     Why  do  you  bend  aside  ? 
Wherefore  steer  to  the  seaward?  "  thus  she  panted  and  cried. 
Never  a  word  from  the  oarsman,  toiling  there  in  the  dark; 
But  right  for  a  gate  of  the  reef  he  silently  headed  the  bark, 

z8 


And  wielding  the  single  paddle  with  passionate  sweep  on  sweep, 
Drove  her,  the  little  fitted,  forth  on  the  open  deep. 

And  fear,  there  where  she  sat,  froze  the  woman  to  stone  : 
540  Not  fear  of  the  crazy  boat  and  the  weltering  deep  alone ; 

But  a  keener  fear  of  the  night,  the  dark,  and  the  ghostly  hour. 

And  the  thing  that  drove  the  canoe  with  more  than  a  mortal's  power 

And  more  than  a  mortal's  boldness.     For  much  she  knew  of  the  dead 

That  haunt  and  fish  upon  reefs,  toiling,  like  men,  for  bread, 

And  traffic  with  human  fishers,  or  slay  them  and  take  their  ware, 

Till  the  hour  when  the  star  of  the  dead 'S  goes  down,  and  the  morning  air 

Blows,  and  the  cocks  are  singing  on  shore.     And  surely  she  knew 

The  speechless  thing  at  her  side  belonged  to  the  grave.  '* 

It  blew 
All  night  from  the  south  ;  all  night,  Rahero  contended  and  kept 
550  The  prow  to  the  cresting  sea;  and,  silent  as  though  she  slept, 
The  woman  huddled  and  quaked.     And  now  was  the  peep  of  day. 
High  and  long  on  their  left  the  mountainous  island  lay; 
And  over  the  peaks  of  Taiarapu  arrows  of  sunlight  struck. 
On  shore  the  birds  were  beginning  to  sing:  the  ghostly  ruck 
Of  the  buried  had  long  ago  returned  to  the  covered  grave  ; 
And  here  on  the  sea,  the  woman,  waxing  suddenly  brave. 
Turned  her  swiftly  about  and  looked  in  the  face  of  the  man. 
And  sure  he  was  none  that  she  knew,  none  of  her  country  or  clan  : 

29 


A  stranger,  mother-naked,  and  marred  with  the  marks  of  fire, 
560  But  comely  and  great  of  stature,  a  man  to  obey  and  admire. 

And  Rahero  regarded  her  also,  fixed,  with  a  frowning  face, 
Judging  the  woman's  fitness  to  mother  a  warlike  race. 
Broad  of  shoulder,  ample  of  girdle,  long  in  the  thigh. 
Deep  of  bosom  she  was,  and  bravely  supported  his  eye. 

"  Woman,"  said  he,  "  last  night  the  men  of  your  folk — 
Man,  woman,  and  maid,  smothered  my  race  in  smoke. 
It  was  done  like  cowards ;  and  I,  a  mighty  man  of  my  hands, 
Escaped,  a  single  life ;  and  now  to  the  empty  lands 
And  smokeless  hearths  of  my  people,  sail,  with  yourself,  alone. 
570  Before  your  mother  was  born,  the  die  of  to-day  was  thrown 
And  you  selected  :  —  your  husband,  vainly  striving,  to  fall 
Broken  between  these  hands  :  —  yourself  to  be  severed  from  all, 
The  places,  the  people,  you  love  —  home,  kindred,  and  clan  — 
And  to  dwell  in  a  desert  and  bear  the  babes  of  a  kinless  man." 


NOTES  TO  THE  SONG  OF  RAHERO. 

Introduction. —  This  tale,  of  which  I  have  not  consciously  changed  a  single  feature,  I 
received  from  tradition.  It  is  highly  popular  through  all  the  country  of  the  eight  Tevas,  the  clan 
to  which  Rahero  belonged ;  and  particularly  in  Taiarapu,  the  windward  peninsula  of  Tahiti, 
where  he  lived.  I  have  heard  from  end  to  end  two  versions ;  and  as  many  as  five  different 
persons  have  helped  me  with  details.  There  seems  no  reason  why  the  tale  should  not  be 
true. 

Note  I,  verse  22.  "  The  aito"  y?/«i/ champion,  or  brave.  One  skilled  in  the  use  of  some 
weapon,  who  wandered  the  country  challenging  distinguished  rivals  and  taking  part  in  local 
quarrels.  It  was  in  the  natural  course  of  his  advancement  to  be  at  last  employed  by  a 
chief,  or  king ;  and  it  would  then  be  a  part  of  his  duties  to  purvey  the  victim  for  sacrifice. 
One  of  the  doomed  families  was  indicated;  the  aito  took  his  weapon  and  went  forth  alone; 
a  little  behind  him  bearers  followed  with  the  sacrificial  basket.  Sometimes  the  victim  showed 
fight,  sometimes  prevailed ;  more  often,  without  doubt,  he  fell.  But  whatever  body  was 
found,  the  bearers  indifferently  took  up. 

Note  2,  verses 45- ^^  J^^f.  "Paz,"  " Honoura,"  and  "  Akapu."  Legendary  persons  of 
Tahiti,  all  natives  of  Taiarapu.  Of  the  two  first,  I  have  collected  singular  although  imper- 
fect legends,  which  I  hope  soon  to  lay  before  the  public  in  another  place.  Of  Ahupu,  except 
in  snatches  of  song,  little  memory  appears  to  linger.  She  dwelt  at  least  about  Tepari, — "the 
sea-cliffs," — the  eastern  fastness  of  the  isle;  walked  bypaths  known  only  to  herself  upon  the 
mountains ;  was  courted  by  dangerous  suitors  who  came  swimming  from  adjacent  islands, 
and  defended  and  rescued  (as  I  gather)  by  the  loyalty  of  native  fish.  My  anxiety  to  learn 
more  of  "  Ahupu  Vehine  "  became  (during  my  stay  in  Taiarapu)  a  cause  of  some  diversion 
to  that  mirthful  people,  the  inhabitants. 

Note  3,  verse  80.  "  Covered  an  oven."  The  cooking  fire  is  made  in  a  hole  in  the 
ground,  and  is  then  buried. 

31 


Note  4i  verse  85.  "Flies."  This  is  perhaps  an  anachronism.  Even  speaking  of  to-day 
in  Tahiti,  the  phrase  would  have  to  be  understood  as  referring  mainly  to  mosquitoes,  and 
these  only  in  watered  valleys  with  close  woods,  such  as  I  suppose  to  form  the  surroundings 
of  Rahero's  homestead.  Quarter  of  a  mile  away,  where  the  air  moves  freely,  you  shall  look 
in  vain  for  one. 

Note  5,  verse  115.  "  A'ciJ/i  "  of  mother-of-pearl.  Bright-hook  fishing,  and  that  with  the 
spear,  appear  to  be  the  favorite  native  methods. 

Note  6,  verse  133.     "Z^rtrM,"  the  plates  of  Tahiti. 

Note  7,  verse  144.  "  Vcittowas,"  so  spelt  for  convenience  of  pronunciation,  quasi 
Tacksmen  in  the  Scottish  Highlands.  The  organization  of  eight  sub-districts  and  eight 
yottowas  to  a  division,  which  was  in  use  (until  yesterday)  among  the  Tevas,  I  have  attributed 
without  authority  to  the  next  clan  :  see  verses  341-2. 

Note  8,  verse  i6o.  "  (5w«rc,"  pronounce  as  a  dactyl.  A  loaded  quarter-staff,  one  of  the 
two  favorite  weapons  of  the  Tahitian  brave  ;  the  javelin,  or  casting  spear,  was  the  other. 

Note  9,  verse  202.  "  T/ie  ribboii  0/  light."  Still  to  be  seen  (and  heard)  spinning  from 
one  marae  to  another  on  Tahiti;  or  so  I  have  it  upon  evidence  that  would  rejoice  the 
Psychical  Society. 

Note  10,  verse  221.  "  Ndmitnu-nra."  The  complete  name  is  Namunu-ura  te  aropa. 
Why  it  should  be  pronounced  Namunu,  dactyllically,  I  cannot  see,  but  so  I  have  always 
heard  it.  This  was  the  clan  immediately  beyond  the  Tevas  on  the  south  coast  of  the  island. 
At  the  date  of  the  tale  the  clan  organization  must  have  been  very  weak.  There  is  no  par- 
ticular mention  of  Tamatea's  mother  going  to  Papara,  to  the  head  chief  of  her  own  clan, 
which  would  appear  her  natural  recourse.  On  the  other  hand,  she  seems  to  have  visited 
various  lesser  chiefs  among  the  Tevas,  and  these  to  have  excused  themselves  solely  on  the 
danger  of  the  enterprise.  The  broad  distinction  here  drawn  between  Nateva  and  Namunu- 
ura  is  therefore  not  impossibly  anachronistic. 

Note  II,  verse  223.  "  Hiopa  the  king."  Hiopa  was  really  the  name  of  the  king  (chief) 
of  Vaiau ;  but  I  could  never  learn  that  of  the  king  of  Paea  —  pronounce  to  rhyme  with 
the  Indian  ayah  —  and  I  gave  the  name  where  it  was  ^ost  needed.  This  note  must  ap- 
pear otiose  indeed  to  readers  who  have  never  heard  of  either  of  these  two  gentlemen  ;  and 

32 


perhaps  there  is  only  one  person  In  the  world  capable  at  once  of  reading  my  verses  and  spy- 
ing the  inaccuracy.  For  him,  for  Mr.  Tati  Salmon,  hereditary  high  chief  of  the  Tevas,  the 
note  is  solely  written  :  a  small  attention  from  a  clansman  to  his  chief. 

Note  12,  verse  239.  "Let  the  pigs  be  taptt."  It  is  impossible  to  explain  tapn  in  a 
note;  we  have  it  as  an  English  word,  taboo.  Suffice  it,  that  a  thing  which  was  tapii  must 
not  be  touched,  nor  a  place  that  was  tapu  visited. 

Note  13,  verse  354.  "  Fish,  the  food  of  desire."  There  is  a  special  word  in  the  Tahi- 
tian  language  to  signify  hungering  after  fish.  I  may  remark  that  here  is  one  of  my  chief 
difficulties  about  the  whole  story.  How  did  king,  commons,  women,  and  all  come  to  eat 
together  at  this  feast?  But  it  troubled  none  of  my  numerous  authoiities;  so  there  must  cer- 
tainly be  some  natural  explanation. 

Note  14,  verse  429.     "  The  mustering  ^vord  of  the  clati." 

Teva  te  im, 
Teva  te  matai  ! 
Teva  the  wind, 
Teva  the  rain  ! 

Note  15,  verse  546.  Note  16,  verse  548.  "  The  star  of  the  dead."  Venus  as  a  morning 
star.  I  have  collected  much  curious  evidence  as  to  this  belief.  The  dead  retain  their  taste 
for  a  fish  diet,  enter  into  copartnery  with  living  fishers,  and  haunt  the  reef  and  the  lagoon. 
The  conclusion  attributed  to  the  nameless  lady  of  the  legend  would  be  reached  to-day, 
under  the  like  circumstances,  by  ninety  per  cent,  of  Polynesians  •  and  here  I  probably 
understate  by  one-tenth. 


THE  FEAST  OF  FAMINE 


THE    FEAST    OF    FAMINE:     MARQUESAN    MANNERS. 

I.   THE    priest's    vigil. 

In  all  the  land  of  the  tribe  was  neither  fish  nor  fruit, 

And  the  deepest  pit  of  popoi  stood  empty  to  the  foot.' 

The  dans  upon  the  left  and  tlie  clans  upon  the  right 

* 
Now  oiled  their  carven  maces  and  scoured  their  daggers  bright ; 

They  gat  them  to  the  thicket,  to  the  deepest  of  the  shade, 

And  lay  with  sleepless  eyes  in  the  deadly  ambuscade. 

And  oft  in  the  starry  even  the  song  of  morning  rose, 

What  time  the  oven  smoked  in  the  country  of  their  foes ; 

For  oft  to  loving  hearts,  and  waiting  ears  and  sight, 

10  The  lads  that  went  to  forage  returned  not  with  the  night. 

Now  first  the  children  sickened,  and  then  the  women  paled. 

And  the  great  arms  of  the  warrior  no  more  for  war  availed. 

Hushed  was  the  deep  drum,  discarded  was  the  dance; 

And  those  that  met  the  priest  now  glanced  at  him  askance. 

The  priest  was  a  man  of  years,  his  eyes  were  ruljy-red,^ 

He  neither  feared  the  dark  nor  the  terrors  of  the  dead, 

37 


He  knew  the  songs  of  races,  the  names  of  ancient  date  ; 
And  the  beard  upon  his  bosom  would  have  bought  the  chief's  estate. 
He  dwelt  in  a  high-built  lodge,  hard  by  the  roaring  shore, 
20  Raised  on  a  noble  terrace  and  with  tikis  3  at  the  door. 
Within  it  was  full  of  riches,  for  he  served  his  nation  well, 
And  full  of  the  sound  of  breakers,  like  the  hollow  of  a  shell. 
For  weeks  he  let  them  perish,  gave  never  a  helping  sign, 
But  sat  on  his  oiled  platform  to  commune  with  the  divine, 
But  sat  on  his  high  terrace,  with  the  tikis  by  his  side, 
And  stared  on  the  blue  ocean,  like  a  parrot,  ruby-eyed. 

Dawn  as  yellow  as  sulphur  leaped  on  the  mountain  height : 
Out  on  the  round  of  the  sea  the  gems  of  the  morning  light. 
Up  from  the  round  of  the  sea  the  streamers  of  the  sun ;  — 
30  But  down  in  the  depths  of  the  valley  the  day  was  not  begun. 
In  the  blue  of  the  woody  twilight  burned  red  the  cocoa-husk. 
And  the  women  and  men  of  the  clan  went  forth  to  bathe  in  the  dusk. 
A  word  that  began  to  go  round,  a  word,  a  whisper,  a  start : 
Hope  that  leaped  in  the  bosom,  fear  that  knocked  on  the  heart: 
*'  See,  the  priest  is  not  risen  —  look,  for  his  door  is  fast ! 
"  He  is  going  to  name  the  victims ;  he  is  going  to  help  us  at  last," 

Thrice  rose  the  sun  to  noon  ;  and  ever,  like  one  of  the  dead. 
The  priest  lay  still  in  his  house  witli  the  roar  of  the  sea  in  his  head ; 

38 


There  was  never  a  foot  on  the  floor,  there  was  never  a  whisper  of  speech ; 

40  Only  the  leering  tikis  stared  on  the  blinding  beach. 

Again  were  the  mountains  fired,  again  the  morning  broke; 
And  all  the  houses  lay  still,  but  the  house  of  the  priest  awoke. 
Close  in  their  covering  roofs  lay  and  trembled  the  clan. 
But  the  aged,  red-eyed  priest  ran  forth  like  a  lunatic  man ; 
And  the  village  panted  to  see  him  in  the  jewels  of  death  again, 
In  the  silver  beards  of  the  old  and  the  hair  of  women  slain. 
Frenzy  shook  in  his  limbs,  frenzy  shone  in  his  eyes. 
And  still  and  again  as  he  ran,  the  valley  rang  with  his  cries. 
All  day  long  in  the  land,  by  cliff  and  thicket  and  den, 

50  He  ran  his  lunatic  rounds,  and  howled  for  the  flesh  of  men ; 
All  day  long  he  ate  not,  nor  ever  drank  of  the  brook; 
And  all  day  long  in  their  houses  the  people  listened  and  shook — 
All  day  long  in  their  houses  they  listened  with  bated  breath. 
And  never  a  soul  went  forth,  for  the  sight  of  the  priest  was  death. 

Three  were  the  days  of  his  running,  as  the  gods  appointed  of  yore. 
Two  the  nights  of  his  sleeping  alone  in  the  place  of  gore : 
The  drunken  slumber  of  frenzy  twice  he  drank  to  the  lees. 
On  the  sacred  stones  of  the  High-place  under  the  sacred  trees; 
With  a  lamp  at  his  ashen  head  he  lay  in  the  place  of  the  feast, 
60  And  the  sacred  leaves  of  the  banyan  rustled  around  the  priest. 
Last,  when  the  stated  even  fell  upon  terrace  and  tree, 
And  the  shade  of  the  lofty  island  lay  leagues  away  to  sea, 

39 


And  all  the  valleys  of  verdure  were  heavy  with  manna  and  musk, 
The  wreck  of  the  red-eyed  priest  came  gasping  home  in  the  dusk. 
He  reeled  across  the  village,  he  staggered  along  the  shore. 
And  between  the  leering  tikis  crept  groping  through  his  door. 

There  went  a  stir  through  the  lodges,  the  voice  of  speech  awoke; 
Once  more  from  the  builded  platforms  arose  the  evening  smoke. 
And  those  who  were  mighty  in  war,  and  those  renowned  for  an  art 
70  Sat  in  their  stated  seats  and  talked  of  the  morrow  apart. 


II.    THE    LOVERS. 

Hark!  away  in  the  woods  —  for  the  ears  of  love  are  sharp  — 
Stealthily,  quietly  touched,  the  note  of  the  one-stringed  harp. 4 
In  the  lighted  house  of  her  father,  why  should  Taheia  start  ? 
Taheia  heavy  of  hair,  Taheia  tender  of  heart, 
Taheia  the  well-descended,  a  bountiful  dealer  in  love, 
Nimble  of  foot  like  the  deer,  and  kind  of  eye  like  the  dove  ? 
Sly  and  shy  as  a  cat,  with  never  a  change  of  face, 
Taheia  slips  to  the  door,  like  one  that  would  breathe  a  space ; 

40 


Saunters  and  pauses,  and  looks  at  the  stars,  and  lists  to  the  seas ; 

80  Then  sudden  and  swift  as  a  cat,  she  plunges  under  the  trees. 
Swift  as  a  cat  she  runs,  wnth  her  garment  gathered  high. 
Leaping,  nimble  of  foot,  running,  certain  of  eye ; 
And  ever  to  guide  her  way  over  the  smooth  and  the  sharp, 
Ever  nearer  and  nearer  the  note  of  the  one-stringed  harp ; 
Till  at  length,  in  a  glade  of  the  wood,  with  a  naked  mountain  above, 
The  sound  of  the  harp  thrown  down,  and  she  in  the  arms  of  her  love. 
"  Rua," — "  Taheia,"  they  cry  — "  my  heart,  my  soul,  and  my  eyes," 
And  clasp  and  sunder  and  kiss,  with  lovely  laughter  and  sighs, 
"  Rua !  "— "  Taheia,  my  love," — "  Rua,  star  of  my  night, 

90  Clasp  me,  hold  me,  and  love  me,  single  spring  of  delight." 

And  Rua  folded  her  close,  he  folded  her  near  and  long. 
The  living  knit  to  the  living,  and  sang  the  lover's  song : 

.    Night,  night  it  is,  night  upon  the  palms. 
Night,  7tight  it  is,  the  land  loind  has  blown. 
Starry,  starry  night,  over  deep  and  height ; 
Love,  love  in  the  valley,  love  all  alone. 

"  Taheia,  heavy  of  hair,  a  foolish  thing  have  we  done. 
To  bind  what  gods  have  sundered  unkindly  into  one. 
Why  should  a  lowly  lover  have  touched  Taheia's  skirt, 
100  Taheia  the  well-descended,  and  Rua  child  of  the  dirt?  " 

41 


"  —  On  high  with  the  haka-ikis  my  father  sits  in  state, 
Ten  times  fifty  kinsmen  salute  him  in  the  gate ; 
Round  all  his  martial  body,  and  in  bands  across  his  face. 
The  marks  of  the  tattooer  proclaim  his  lofty  place. 
I  too,  in  the  hands  of  the  cunning,  in  the  sacred  cabin  of  palm,5 
Have  shrunk  like  the  mimosa,  and  bleated  like  the  lamb; 
Round  half  my  tender  body,  that  none  shall  clasp  but  you, 
For  a  crest  and  a  fair  adornment  go  dainty  lines  of  blue. 
Love,  love,  beloved  Rua,  love  levels  all  degrees, 
no  And  the  well-tattooed  Taheia  clings  panting  to  your  knees." 

"  —  Taheia,  song  of  the  morning,  how  long  is  the  longest  love  ? 
A  cry,  a  clasp  of  the  hands,  a  star  that  falls  from  above ! 
Ever  at  morn  in  the  blue,  and  at  night  when  all  is  black, 
Ever  it  skulks  and  trembles  with  the  hunter,  Death,  on  its  track. 
Hear  me,  Taheia,  death  !     For  to-morrow  the  priest  shall  awake. 
And  the  names  be  named  of  the  victims  to  bleed  for  the  nation's  sake ; 
And  first  of  the  numbered  many  that  shall  be  slain  ere  noon, 
Rua  the  child  of  the  dirt,  Rua  the  kinless  loon. 
For  him  shall  the  drum  be  beat,  for  him  be  raised  the  song, 
120  For  him  to  the  sacred  High-place  the  chaunting  people  throng, 
For  him  the  oven  smoke  as  for  a  speechless  beast, 
And  the  sire  of  my  Taheia  come  greedy  to  the  feast." 
"  —  Rua,  be  silent,  spare  me.     Taheia  closes  her  ears. 
Pity  my  yearning  heart,  pity  my  girlish  years ! 

42 


Flee  from  the  cruel  hands,  flee  from  the  knife  and  coal, 
Lie  hid  in  the  deeps  of  the  woods,  Rua,  sire  of  my  soul !  " 

"  Whither  to  flee,  Taheia,  whither  in  all  of  the  land  ? 
The  fires  of  the  bloody  kitchen  are  kindled  on  every  hand; 
On  every  hand  in  the  isle  a  hungry  whetting  of  teeth, 
130  Eyes  in  the  trees  above,  arms  in  the  brush  beneath. 
Patience  to  lie  in  wait,  cunning  to  follow  the  sleuth, 
Abroad  the  foes  I  have  fought,  and  at  home  the  friends  of  my  youtli." 

"  Love,  love,  beloved  Rua,  love  has  a  clearer  eye. 
Hence  from  the  arms  of  love  you  go  not  forth  to  die. 
There,  where  the  broken  mountain  drops  sheer  into  the  glen. 
There  shall  you  find  a  hold  from  the  boldest  hunter  of  men  ; 
There,  in  the  deep  recess,  where  the  sun  falls  only  at  noon, 
And  only  once  in  the  night  enters  the  light  of  the  moon, 
Nor  ever  a  sound  but  of  birds,  or  the  rain  when  it  falls  with  a  shout; 
140  For  death  and  the  fear  of  death  beleaguer  the  valley  about. 
Tapu  it  is,  but  the  gods  will  surely  pardon  despair ; 
Tapu,  but  what  of  that  ?    If  Rua  can  only  dare. 
Tapu  and  tapu  and  tapu,  I  know  they  are  every  one  right; 
But  the  god  of  every  tapu  is  not  always  quick  to  smite. 
Lie  secret  there,  my  Rua,  in  the  arms  of  awful  gods. 
Sleep  in  the  shade  of  the  trees  on  the  couch  of  the  kindly  sods, 

43 


Sleep  and  dream  of  Taheia,  Talieia  will  wake  for  you ; 
And  whenever  the  land  wind  blows  and  the  woods  are  heavy  with  dew. 
Alone  through  the  horror  of  night,^  with  food  for  the  soul  of  her  love, 
150  Taheia  the  undissuaded  will  hurry  true  as  the  dove." 

"  Taheia,  the  pit  of  the  night  crawls  with  treacherous  things, 
Spirits  of  ultimate  air  and  the  evil  souls  of  things ; 
The  souls  of  the  dead,  the  stranglers,  that  perch  in  the  trees  of  the  wood, 
Waiters  for  all  things  human,  haters  of  evil  and  good." 

"  Rua,  behold  me,  kiss  me,  look  in  my  eyes  and  read ; 

Are  these  the  eyes  of  a  maid  that  would  leave  her  lover  in  need  ? 

Brave  in  the  eye  of  day,  my  father  ruled  in  the  fight ; 

The  child  of  his  loins,  Taheia,  will  play  the  man  in  the  night." 

So  it  was  spoken,  and  so  agreed,  and  Taheia  arose 
160  And  smiled  in  the  stars  and  was  gone,  swift  as  the  swallow  goes ; 
And  Rua  stood  on  the  hill,  and  sighed,  and  followed  her  flight. 
And  there  were  the  lodges  below,  each  with  its  door  alight ; 
From  folk  that  sat  on  the  terrace  and  drew  out  the  even  long 
Sudden  crowings  of  laughter,  monotonous  drone  of  song; 
The  quiet  passage  of  souls  over  his  head  in  the  trees  ;  ^ 
And  from  all  around  the  haven  the  crumbling  thunder  of  seas. 
"  Farewell,  my  home,"  said  Rua.     "  Farewell,  O  quiet  seat ! 
To-morrow  in  all  your  valleys  the  drum  of  death  shall  beat." 

44 


:il.    THE    FEAST. 

Dawn  as  yellow  as  sulphur  leaped  on  the  naked  peak, 
170  And  all  the  village  was  stirring,  for  now  was  the  priest  to  speak. 

Forth  on  his  terrace  he  came,  and  sat  with  the  chief  in  talk ; 

His  lips  were  blackened  with  fever,  his  cheeks  were  whiter  than  chalk ; 

Fever  clutched  at  his  hands,  fever  nodded  his  head, 

But,  quiet  and  steady  and  cruel,  his  eyes  shone  ruby-red. 

In  the  earliest  rays  of  the  sun  the  chief  rose  up  content ; 

Braves  were  summoned,  and  drummers ;  messengers  came  and  went; 

Braves  ran  to  their  lodges,  weapons  were  snatched  from  the  wall ; 

The  commons  herded  together,  and  fear  was  over  them  all. 

Festival  dresses  they  wore,  but  the  tongue  was  dry  in  their  mouth, 
180  And  the  blinking  eyes  in  their  faces  skirted  from  north  to  south. 

Now  to  the  sacred  enclosure  gathered  the  greatest  and  least, 
And  from  under  the  shade  of  the  Banyan  arose  the  voice  of  the  feast, 
The  frenzied  roll  of  the  drum,  and  a  swift,  monotonous  song. 
Higher  the  sun  swam  up;  the  trade  wind  level  and  strong 
Awoke  in  the  tops  of  the  palms  and  rattled  the  fans  aloud, 
And  over  the  garlanded  heads  and  shining  robes  of  the  crowd 
Tossed  the  spiders  of  shadow,  scattered  the  jewels  of  sun. 
Forty  the  tale  of  the  drums,  and  the  forty  throbbed  like  one ; 
A  thousand  hearts  in  the  crowd,  and  the  even  chorus  of  song, 
190  Swift  as  the  feet  of  a  runner,  trampled  a  thousand  strong. 

45 


And  the  old  men  leered  at  the  ovens  and  licked  their  lips  for  the  food ; 
And  the  women  stared  at  the  lads,  and  laughed  and  looked  to  the  wood. 
As  when  the  sweltering  baker,  at  night,  when  the  city  is  dead. 
Alone  in  the  trough  of  labor  treads  and  fashions  the  bread ; 
So  in  the  heat,  and  the  reek,  and  the  touch  of  woman  and  man, 
The  naked  spirit  of  evil  kneaded  the  hearts  of  the  clan. 

Now  cold  was  at  many  a  heart,  and  shaking  in  many  a  seat ; 

For  there  were  the  empty  baskets,  but  who  was  to  furnish  the  meat  ? 

For  here  was  the  nation  assembled,  and  there  were  the  ovens  anigh, 
200  And  out  of  a  thousand  singers  nine  were  numbered  to  die. 

Till,  of  a  sudden,  a  shock,  a  mace  in  the  air,  a  yell. 

And,  struck  in  the  edge  of  the  crowd,  the  first  of  the  victims  fell.^ 

Terror  and  horrible  glee  divided  the  shrinking  clan, 

Terror  of  what  was  to  follow,  glee  for  a  diet  of  man. 

Frenzy  hurried  the  chaunt,  frenzy  rattled  the  drums ; 

The  nobles,  high  on  the  terrace,  greedily  mouthed  their  thumbs ; 

And  once  and  again  and  again,  in  the  ignorant  crowd  below, 

Once  and  again  and  again  descended  the  murderous  blow. 

Now  smoked  the  oven,  and  now,  with  the  cutting  lip  of  a  shell, 
2IO  A  butcher  of  ninety  winters  jointed  the  bodies  well. 

Unto  the  carven  lodge,  silent,  in  order  due. 

The  grandees  of  the  nation  one  after  one  withdrew  ; 

And  a  line  of  laden  bearers  brought  to  the  terrace  foot, 

On  poles  across  their  shoulders,  the  last  reserve  of  fruit. 

46 


The  victims  bled  for  the  nobles  in  the  old  appointed  way; 
The  fruit  was  spread  for  the  commons,  for  all  should  eat  to-day. 

And  now  was  the  kava  brewed,  and  now  the  cocoa  ran, 
Now  was  the  hour  of  the  dance  for  child  and  woman  and  man ; 
And  mirth  was  in  every  heart,  and  a  garland  on  every  head, 
220  And  all  was  well  with  the  living  and  well  with  the  eight  who  were  dead. 
Only  the  chiefs  and  the  priest  talked  and  consulted  awhile :  [smile  : 

"  To-morrow,"  they  said,  and  "To-morrow,"  and  nodded  and  seemed  to 
"  Rua  the  child  of  dirt,  the  creature  of  common  clay, 
"  Rua  must  die  to-morrow,  since  Rua  is  gone  to-day." 

Out  of  the  groves  of  the  valley,  where  clear  the  blackbirds  sang. 
Sheer  from  the  trees  of  the  valley  the  face  of  the  mountain  sprang ; 
Sheer  and  bare  it  rose,  unscalable  barricade, 
Beaten  and  blown  against  by  the  generous  draught  of  the  trade. 
Dawn  on  its  fluted  brow  painted  rainbow  light, 
230  Close  on  its  pinnacled  crown  trembled  the  stars  at  night. 
Here  and  there  in  a  cleft  clustered  contorted  trees, 
Or  the  silver  beard  of  a  stream  hung  and  swung  in  the  breeze. 
High  overhead,  with  a  cry,  the  torrents  leaped  for  the  main, 
And  silently  sprinkled  below  in  thin  perennial  rain. 
Dark  in  the  staring  noon,  dark  was  Rua's  ravine. 
Damp  and  cold  was  the  air,  and  the  face  of  the  cliffs  was  green. 

47 


Here,  in  the  rocky  pit,  accursed  already  of  old, 

On  a  stone  in  the  midst  of  a  river,  Rua  sat  and  was  cold. 

"Valley  of  mid-day  shadows,  valley  of  silent  falls," 
240  Rua  sang,  and  his  voice  went  hollow  about  the  walls, 
"  Valley  of  shadow  and  rock,  a  doleful  prison  to  me, 
What  is  the  life  you  can  give  to  a  child  of  the  sun  and  the  sea?  " 

And  Rua  arose  and  came  to  the  open  mouth  of  the  glen, 
Whence  he  beheld  the  woods,  and  the  sea,  and  houses  of  men. 
Wide  blew  the  riotous  trade,  and  smelt  in  his  nostrils  good; 
It  bowed  the  boats  on  the  bay,  and  tore  and  divided  the  wood ; 
It  smote  and  sundered  the  groves  as  Moses  smote  with  the  rod, 
And  the  streamers  of  all  the  trees  blew  like  banners  abroad; 
And  ever  and  on,  in  a  lull,  the  trade  wind  brought  him  along 
250  A  far-off  patter  of  drums  and  a  far-off  whisper  of  song. 

Swift  as  the  swallow's  wings,  the  diligent  hands  on  the  drum 
Fluttered  and  hurried  and  throbbed.     "  Ah,  woe  that  I  hear  you  come," 
Rua  cried  in  his  grief,  "  a  sorrowful  sound  to  me. 
Mounting  far  and  faint  from  the  resonant  shore  of  the  sea  ! 
Woe  in  the  song  !  for  the  grave  breathes  in  the  singers'  breath. 
And  I  hear  in  the  tramp  of  the  drums  the  beat  of  the  lieart  of  death. 
Home  of  my  youth  !  no  more,  through  all  the  length  of  the  years, 
No  more  to  the  place  of  the  echoes  of  early  laughter  and  tears, 


No  more  shall  Rua  return  ;  no  more  as  the  evening  ends, 
260  To  crowded  eyes  of  welcome,  to  the  reaching  hands  of  friends." 

All  day  long  from  the  High-place  the  drums  and  the  singing  came, 
And  the  even  fell,  and  the  sun  went  down,  a  wheel  of  flame ; 
And  night  came  gleaning  the  shadows  and  hushing  the  sounds  of  the 
And  silence  slept  on  all,  where  Rua  sorrowed  and  stood.  [wood; 

But  still  from  the  shore  of  the  bay  the  sound  of  the  festival  rang. 
And  still  the  crowd  in  the  High-place  danced  and  shouted  and  sang. 

Now  over  all  the  isle  terror  was  breathed  abroad 
Of  shadowy  hands  from  the  trees  and  shadowy  snares  in  the  sod ; 
And  before  the  nostrils  of  night,  the  shuddering  hunter  of  men 
270  Hurried,  with  beard  on  shoulder,  back  to  his  lighted  den. 
"  Taheia,  here  to  my  side  !  "  —  "  Rua,  my  Rua,  you  !  " 
And  cold  from  the  clutch  of  terror,  cold  with  the  damp  of  the  dew, 
Taheia,  heavy  of  hair,  leaped  through  the  dark  to  his  arms  ; 
Taheia  leaped  to  his  clasp,  and  was  folded  in  from  alarms. 

"  Rua,  beloved,  here,  see  what  your  love  has  brought ; 
Coming — alas  !  returning  —  swift  as  the  shuttle  of  thought ; 
Returning,  alas !  for  to-night,  with  the  beaten  drum  and  the  voice, 
In  the  shine  of  many  torches  must  the  sleepless  clan  rejoice; 
And  Taheia  the  well-descended,  the  daughter  of  chief  and  priest, 
280  Taheia  must  sit  in  her  place  in  the  crowded  bench  of  the  feast." 

49 


So  it  was  spoken ;  and  she,  girding  her  garment  high, 

Fled  and  was  swallowed  of  woods,  swift  as  the  sight  of  an  eye. 

Night  over  isle  and  sea  rolled  her  curtain  of  stars, 
Then  a  trouble  awoke  in  the  air,  the  east  was  banded  with  bars; 
Dawn  as  yellow  as  sulphur  leaped  on  the  mountain  height ; 
Dawn,  in  the  deepest  glen,  fell  a  wonder  of  light ; 
High  and  clear  stood  the  palms  in  the  eye  of  the  brightening  east, 
And  lo  !  from  the  sides  of  the  sea  the  broken  sound  of  the  feast ! 
As,  when  in  days  of  summer,  through  open  windows,  the  fly 
290  Swift  as  a  breeze  and  loud  as  a  trump  goes  by. 

But  when  frosts  in  the  field  have  pinched  the  wintering  mouse. 

Blindly  noses  and  buzzes  and  hums  in  the  firelit  house  : 

So  the  sound  of  the  feast  gallantly  trampled  at  night, 

So  it  staggered  and  drooped,  and  droned  in  the  morning  light. 


IV,    THE    RAID. 

It  chanced  that  as  Rua  sat  in  the  valley  of  silent  falls. 
He  heard  a  calling  of  doves  from  high  on  the  cliff"y  walls. 
Fire  had  fashioned  of  yore,  and  time  had  broken,  the  rocks  ; 
There  were  rooting  crannies  for  trees  and  nesting- places  for  flocks  ; 
And  he  saw  on  the  top  of  the  cliff's,  looking  up  from  the  pit  of  the  shade, 
300  A  flicker  of  wings  and  sunshine,  and  trees  that  swung  in  the  trade. 

50 


"  The  trees  s\ving  in  the  trade,"  quoth  Rua,  doubtful  of  words, 

"  And  the  sun  stares  from  the  sky,  but  what  should  trouble'  the  birds  ?  " 

Up  from  the  shade  he  gazed,  where  high  the  parapet  shone. 

And  he  was  aware  of  a  ledge  and  of  things  that  moved  thereon. 

"  What  manner  of  things  are  these  ?     Are  they  spirits  abroad  by  day  ? 

Or  the  foes  of  my  clan  that  are  come,  bringing  death  by  a  perilous  way  ?  " 

The  valley  was  gouged  like  a  vessel,  and  round  like  the  vessel's  lip. 
With  a  cape  of  the  side  of  the  hill  thrust  forth  like  the  bows  of  a  ship. 
On  the  top  of  the  face  of  the  cape  a  volley  of  sun  struck  fair, 
310  And  the  cape  overhung  like  a  chin  a  gulph  of  sunless  air. 

"  Silence,  heart !     What  is  that? — that,  that  flickered  and  shone, 

Into  the  sun  for  an  instant,  and  in  an  instant  gone  ? 

Was  it  a  warrior's  plume,  a  warrior's  girdle  of  hair? 

Swung  in  the  loop  of  a  rope,  is  he  making  a  bridge  of  the  air  ?  " 

Once  and  again  Rua  saw,  in  the  trenchant  edge  of  the  sky, 
The  giddy  conjuring  done.     And  then,  in  the  blink  of  an  eye, 
A  scream  caught  in  with  the  breath,  a  whirling  packet  of  limbs, 
A  lump  that  dived  in  the  gulph,  more  swift  than  a  dolphin  swims  ; 
And  there  was  the  lump  at  his  feet,  and  eyes  were  alive  in  the  lump. 
320  Sick  was  the  soul  of  Rua,  ambushed  close  in  a  clump ; 
Sick  of  soul  lie  drew  near,  making  his  courage  stout; 
And  he  looked  in  the  face  of  the  thing,  and  the  life  of  the  thing  went  out. 
And  he  gazed  on  the  tattooed  limbs,  and,  behold,  he  knew  the  man : 
Hoka,  a  chief  of  the  Vais,  the  truculent  foe  of  his  clan : 

51 


Hoka  a  moment  since  that  stepped  in  the  loop  of  the  rope, 
Filled  with  the  lust  of  war,  and  alive  with  courage  and  hope. 

Again  to  the  giddy  cornice  Rua  lifted  his  eyes, 
And  again  beheld  men  passing  in  the  armpit  of  the  skies. 
*'  Foes  of  my  race !  "  cried  Rua,  "  the  mouth  of  Rua  is  true: 
330  Never  a  shark  in  the  deep  is  nobler  of  soul  than  you. 
There  was  never  a  nobler  foray,  never  a  bolder  plan  ; 
Never  a  dizzier  path  was  trod  by  the  children  of  man  ; 
And  Rua,  your  evil-dealer  through  all  the  days  of  his  years. 

Counts  it  honor  to  hate  you,  honor  to  fall  by  your  spears." 
And  Rua  straightened  his  back.     "  O  Vais,  a  scheme  for  a  scheme !  " 
Cried  Rua  and  turned  and  descended  the  turbulent  stair  of  the  stream, 
Leaping  from  rock  to  rock  as  the  water-wagtail  at  home 
Flits  through  resonant  valleys  and  skims  by  boulder  and  foam. 
And  Rua  burst  from  the  glen  and  leaped  on  the  shore  of  the  brook, 
340  And  straight  for  the  roofs  of  the  clan  his  vigorous  way  he  took. 
Swift  were  the  heels  of  his  flight,  and  loud  behind  as  he  went 
Rattled  the  leaping  stones  on  the  line  of  his  long  descent. 
And  ever  he  thought  as  he  ran,  and  caught  at  his  gasping  breath, 
"  O  the  fool  of  a  Rua,  Rua  that  runs  to  his  death ! 

But  the  right  is  the  right,"  thought  Rua,  and  ran  like  the  wind  on  the  foam, 
"  The  right  is  the  right  for  ever,  and  home  for  ever  home. 

52 


For  what  though  the  oven  smoke  ?     And  what  though  I  die  ere  morn  ? 
There  was  I  nourished  and  tended,  and  there  was  Taheia  born." 
Noon  was  high  on  the  High-place,  the  second  noon  of  the  feast ; 

350  And  heat  and  shameful  slumber  weighed  on  people  and  priest ; 

And  the  heart  drudged  slow  in  bodies  heavy  with  monstrous  meals  ; 
And  the  senseless  limbs  were  scattered  abroad  like  spokes  of  wheels ; 
And  crapulous  women  sat  and  stared  at  the  stones  anigh 
With  a  bestial  droop  of  the  lip  and  a  swinish  rheum  in  the  eye. 
As  about  the  dome  of  the  bees  in  the  time  for  the  drones  to  fall, 
The  dead  and  the  maimed  are  scattered,  and  lie,  and  stagger,  and  crawl ; 
So  on  the  grades  of  the  terrace,  in  the  ardent  eye  of  the  day, 
The  half-awake  and  the  sleepers  clustered  and  crawled  and  lay ; 
And  loud  as  the  dome  of  the  bees,  in  the  time  of  a  swarming  horde, 

360  A  horror  of  many  insects  hung  in  the  air  and  roared. 

Rua  looked  and  wondered ;  he  said  to  himself  in  his  heart : 
"  Poor  are  the  pleasures  of  life,  and  death  is  the  better  part." 
But  lo  !  on  the  higher  benches  a  cluster  of  tranquil  folk 
Sat  by  themselves,  nor  raised  their  serious  eyes,  nor  spoke  : 
Women  with  robes  unruffled  and  garlands  duly  arranged, 
Gazing  far  from  the  feast  with  faces  of  people  estranged; 
And  quiet  amongst  the  quiet,  and  fairer  than  all  the  fair, 
Taheia,  the  well-descended,  Taheia,  heavy  of  hair. 
And  the  soul  of  Rua  awoke,  courage  enlightened  his  eyes, 
370  And  he  uttered  a  summoning  shout  and  called  on  the  clan  to  rise. 

53 


Over  against  him  at  once,  in  the  spotted  shade  of  the  trees, 
Owlish  and  blinking  creatures  scrambled  to  hands  and  knees  ; 
On  the  grades  of  the  sacred  terrace,  the  driveller  woke  to  fear. 
And  the  hand  of  the  ham-drooped  warrior  brandished  a  wavering  spear. 
And  Rua  folded  his  arms,  and  scorn  discovered  his  teeth; 
Above  the  war-crowd  gibbered,  and  Rua  stood  smiling  beneath. 
Thick,  like  leaves  in  the  autumn,  faint,  like  April  sleet, 
Missiles  from  tremulous  hands  quivered  around  his  feet ; 
And  Taheia  leaped  from  her  place ;  and  the  priest,  the  ruby-eyed, 
380  Ran  to  the  front  of  the  terrace,  and  brandished  his  arms,  and  cried  : 

"  Hold,  O  fools,  he  brings  tidings  !  "  and  "  Hold,  't  is  the  love  of  my 
Till  lo  !  in  front  of  the  terrace,  Rua  pierced  with  a  dart.  [heart !  " 

Taheia  cherished  his  head,  and  the  aged  priest  stood  by. 
And  gazed  with  eyes  of  ruby  at  Rua's  darkening  eye. 
"  Taheia,  here  is  the  end,  I  die  a  death  for  a  man. 
I  have  given  the  life  of  my  soul  to  save  an  unsavable  clan. 
See  them,  the  drooping  of  hams  !  behold  me  the  blinking  crew  : 
Fifty  spears  they  cast,  and  one  of  fifty  true  ! 
And  you,  O  priest,  the  foreteller,  foretell  for  yourself  if  you  can, 
390  Foretell  the  hour  of  the  day  when  the  Vais  shall  burst  on  your  clan ! 
By  the  head  of  the  tapu  cleft,  with  death  and  fire  in  their  hand, 
Thick  and  silent  like  ants,  the  warriors  swarm  in  the  land." 

And  they  tell  that  when  next  the  sun  had  climbed  to  the  noonday  skies. 
It  shone  on  the  smoke  of  feasting  in  the  country  of  the  Vais. 

54 


NOTES  TO  THE  FEAST  OF  FAMINE. 

In  this  ballad  I  have  strung  together  some  of  the  more  striking  particularities  of  the  Mar- 
quesas. It  rests  upon  no  authority ;  it  is  in  no  sense,  like  "  Rahero,  "  a  native  5tor>' ;  but  a 
patchwork  of  details  of  manners  and  the  impressions  of  a  traveller.  It  may  seem  strange, 
when  the  scene  is  laid  upon  these  profligate  islands,  to  make  the  story  hinge  on  love.  But 
love  is  not  less  known  in  the  Marquesas  than  elsewhere ;  nor  is  there  any  cause  of  suicide 
more  common  in  the  islands. 

Note  I,  verse  2.     "  Pit  of  Popoi."    Where  the  bread  fruit  was  stored  for  preservation. 

Nbte  2,  verse  15.  "Ruby-red."  The  priest's  eyes  were  probably  red  from  the  abuse  of 
Rava.  His  beard  (verse  18)  is  said  to  be  worth  an  estate;  for  the  beards  of  old  men  are 
the  favourite  head  adornment  of  the  Marquesans,  as  the  hair  of  women  formed  their  most 
costly  girdle.  The  former,  among  this  generally  beardless  and  short-lived  people,  fetch  to- 
day considerable  sums. 

Note  3,  verse  20.     "  Tikis."     The  tiki  is  an  ugly  image  hewn  out  of  wood  or  stone 

Note  4,  verse  76.     "  The  one-stringed  harp."     Usually  employed  for  serenades. 

Note  5,  verse  109.  "The  sacred  cabin  of  palm."  Which,  however,  no  woman  could 
approach.  I  do  not  know  where  women  were  tattooed  ;  probably  in  the  common  house,  or  in 
the  bush,  for  a  woman  was  a  creature  of  small  account.  I  must  guard  the  reader  against 
supposing  Taheia  was  at  all  disfigured;  the  art  of  the  Marquesan  tattooer  is  extreme;  and 
she  would  appear  to  be  clothed  in  a  web  of  lace,  inimitably  delicate,  exquisite  in  pattern,  and 
of  a  bluish  hue  that  at  once  contrasts  and  harmonises  with  the  warm  pigment  of  the  native 
skin.  It  would  be  hard  to  find  a  woman  more  becomingly  adorned  than  "  a  well  tattooed  " 
Marquesan. 

Note  6,  verse  155.  "  The  horror  of  night."  The  Polynesian  fear  of  ghosts  and  of  the 
dark  has  been  already  referred  to.     Their  life  is  beleaguered  by  the  dead. 

Note  7,  verse  171.  "  The  gjiiet  passage  of  souls."  So,  I  am  told,  the  natives  explain 
the  sound  of  a  little  wind  passing  overhead  unfelt. 

Note  8,  verse  208.  "  The  first  of  tlie  victims  fell."  Without  doubt,  this  whole  scene  is 
untrue  to  fact.  The  victims  were  disposed  of  privately  and  some  time  before.  And  indeed  I 
am  far  from  claiming  the  credit  of  any  high  degree  of  accuracy  for  this  ballad.  Even  in  a 
time  of  famine,  it  is  probable  that  Marquesan  life  went  far  more  gaily  than  is  here  represented. 
But  the  melancholy  of  to-day  lies  on  the  writer's  mind. 

55 


TICONDEROGA. 


TICONDEROGA:    A   LEGEND   OF   THE  WEST   HIGHLANDS. 

This  is  the  tale  of  the  man 

Who  heard  a  word  in  the  night 
In  the  land  of  the  heathery  hills, 

In  the  days  of  the  feud  and  the  fight. 
By  the  sides  of  the  rainy  sea, 

Where  never  a  stranger  came, 
On  the  awful  lips  of  the  dead. 

He  heard  the  outlandish  name. 
It  sang  in  his  sleeping  ears, 

It  hummed  in  his  waking  head : 
The  name  —  Ticonderoga, 

The  utterance  of  the  dead. 

I.    THE  SAYING   OF  THE  NAME. 

On  the  loch-sides  of  Appin, 

W'hen  the  mist  blew  from  the  sea, 
A  Stewart  stood  with  a  Cameron^: 

An  angry  man  was  he. 
59 


The  blood  beat  in  his  ears, 

The  blood  ran  hot  to  his  head, 
The  mist  blew  from  the  sea, 
20  And  there  was  the  Cameron  dead. 

"  O,  what  have  I  done  to  my  friend, 

O,  what  have  I  done  to  mysel', 
That  he  should  be  cold  and  dead, 

And  I  in  the  danger  of  all  ? 
Nothing  but  danger  about  me, 

Danger  behind  and  before, 
Death  at  wait  in  the  heather 

In  Appin  and  Mamore, 
Hate  at  all  of  the  ferries 
30  And  death  at  each  of  the  fords, 

Camerons  priming  gunlocks 

And  Camerons  sharpening  swords." 

But  this  was  a  man  of  counsel, 

This  was  a  man  of  a  score. 
There  dwelt  no  pawkier  Stewart 

In  Appin  or  Mamore. 
He  looked  on  the  blowing  mist, 
He  looked  on  the  awful  dead. 
And  there  came  a  smile  on  his  face 
40  And  there  slipped  a  thought  in  liis  head. 

60 


Out  over  cairn  and  moss, 

Out  over  scrog  and  scaur, 
He  ran  as  runs  the  clansman 

That  bears  the  cross  of  war. 
His  heart  beat  in  his  body, 

His  hair  clove  to  his  face. 
When  he  came  at  last  in  the  gloaming 

To  the  dead  man's  brother's  place. 
The  east  was  white  with  the  moon, 
50  The  west  with  the  sun  was  red, 

And  there,  in  the  house-doorway. 

Stood  the  brother  of  the  dead. 

*'  I  have  slain  a  man  to  my  danger, 
I  have  slain  a  man  to  my  death. 

I  put  my  soul  in  your  hands," 
The  panting  Stewart  saith. 

"  I  lay  it  bare  in  your  hands. 

For  I  know  your  hands  are  leai ; 

And  be  you  my  targe  and  bulwark 
60  From  the  bullet  and  the  steel." 

Then  up  and  spoke  the  Cameron, 
And  gave  him  his  hand  again  : 

"  There  shall  never  a  man  in  Scotland 
Set  faith  in  me  in  vain ; 
61 


And  whatever  man  you  have  slaughtered, 
Of  whatever  name  or  hne, 

By  my  sword  and  yonder  mountain, 
I  make  your  quarrel  mine. ' 

I  bid  you  in  to  my  fireside, 
70  I  share  with  you  house  and  hall; 

It  stands  upon  my  honor 
To  see  you  safe  from  all." 

It  fell  in  the  time  of  midnight, 
When  the  fox  barked  in  the  den 

And  the  plaids  were  over  the  faces 
In  all  the  houses  of  men, 

That  as  the  living  Cameron 
Lay  sleepless  on  his  bed, 

Out  of  the  night  and  the  other  world, 
80  Came  in  to  him  the  dead. 

"  My  blood  is  on  the  heather. 

My  bones  are  on  the  hill ; 
There  is  joy  in  the  home  of  ravens 

That  the  young  shall  eat  their  fill. 
My  blood  is  poured  in  the  dust. 

My  soul  is  spilled  in  the  air ; 
And  the  man  that  has  undone  me 

Sleeps  in  my  brother's  care." 


"  I  'm  wae  for  your  death,  my  brother, 
go  But  if  all  of  my  house  were  dead, 

I  couldnae  withdraw  the  plighted  hand, 
Nor  break  the  word  once  said." 

"  O,  what  shall  I  say  to  our  father. 
In  the  place  to  which  I  fare  ? 

O,  what  shall  I  say  to  our  mother, 
Who  greets  to  see  me  there  ? 

And  to  all  the  kindly  Camerons 

That  have  lived  and  died  long-syne  — 

Is  this  the  word  you  send  them, 
IOC  Fause-hearted  brother  mine  ?  " 

"  It 's  neither  fear  nor  duty, 
It's  neither  quick  nor  dead 

Shall  gar  me  withdraw  the  plighted  hand, 
Or  break  the  word  once  said." 

Thrice  in  the  time  of  midnight. 

When  the  fox  barked  in  the  den. 
And  the  plaids  were  over  the  faces 

In  all  the  houses  of  men. 
Thrice  as  the  living  Cameron 
no  Lay  sleepless  on  his  bed. 

Out  of  the  night  and  the  other  world 
Came  in  to  him  the  dead, 
63 


And  cried  to  him  for  vengeance 
On  the  man  that  laid  him  low ; 

And  thrice  the  living  Cameron 
Told  the  dead  Cameron,  no. 

"  Thrice  have  you  seen  me,  brother. 

But  now  shall  see  me  no  more, 
Till  you  meet  your  angry  fathers 
120  Upon  the  farther  shore. 

Thrice  have  I  spoken,  and  now, 

Before  the  cock  be  heard, 
I  take  my  leave  forever 

With  the  naming  of  a  word. 
It  shall  sing  in  your  sleeping  ears. 

It  shall  hum  in  your  waking  head. 
The  name  —  Ticonderoga, 

And  the  warning  of  the  dead." 

Now  when  the  night  was  over 
130  And  the  time  of  people's  fears, 

The  Cameron  walked  abroad, 

And  the  word  was  in  his  ears. 
"  Many  a  name  I  know. 

But  never  a  name  like  this  ; 
O,  where  shall  I  find  a  skilly  man 
Shall  tell  me  what  it  is  ?  " 
64 


With  many  a  man  he  counselled 

Of  high  and  low  degree, 
With  the  herdsmen  on  the  mountains 
140  And  the  fishers  of  the  sea. 

And  he  came  and  went  unweary, 

And  read  the  books  of  yore, 
And  the  runes  that  were  written  of  old 

On  stones  upon  the  moor. 
And  many  a  name  he  was  told, 

But  never  the  name  of  his  fears  — 
Never,  in  east  or  west. 

The  name  that  rang  in  his  ears : 
Names  of  men  and  of  clans, 
150  Names  for  the  grass  and  the  tree, 

For  the  smallest  tarn  in  the  mountains, 

The  smallest  reef  in  the  sea: 
Names  for  the  high  and  low, 

The  names  of  the  craig  and  the  flat ; 
But  in  all  the  land  of  Scotland, 

Never  a  name  like  that. 


11.    THE    SEEKING    OF    THE    NAME. 


And  now  there  was  speech  in  the  south, 
And  a  man  of  the  south  that  was  wise, 
65 


A  periwig'd  lord  of  London,  ^ 
l6o  Called  on  the  clans  to  rise. 

And  the  riders  rode,  and  the  summons 

Came  to  the  western  shore, 
To  the  land  of  the  sea  and  the  heather, 

To  Appin  and  Mamore. 
It  called  on  all  to  gather 

From  every  scrog  and  scaur, 
That  loved  their  fathers'  tartan 

And  the  ancient  game  of  war. 
And  down  the  watery  valley 
170  And  up  the  windy  hill, 

Once  more,  as  in  the  olden, 

The  pipes  were  sounding  shrill ; 
Again  in  highland  sunshine 

The  naked  steel  was  bright ; 
And  the  lads,  once  more  in  tartan. 

Went  forth  again  to  fight. 

*'  O,  why  should  I  dwell  here 
With  a  weird  upon  my  life. 
When  the  clansmen  shout  for  battle 
180  And  the  war-swords  clash  in  strife  ? 

I  cannae  joy  at  feast, 
I  cannae  sleep  in  bed, 
66 


Foi"  the  wonder  of  tlie  word 

And  the  warning  of  the  dead. 
It  sings  in  my  sleeping  ears, 

It  hums  in  my  waking  head, 
The  name  —  Ticonderoga, 

The  utterance  of  the  dead. 
Then  up,  and  with  the  fighting  men 
190  To  march  away  from  here, 

Till  the  cry  of  the  great  war-pipe 

Shall  drown  it  in  my  ear  !  " 

Where  flew  King  George's  ensign 

Tlie  plaided  soldiers  went: 
They  drew  the  sword  in  Germany, 

In  Flanders  pitched  the  tent. 
The  bells  of  foreign  cities 

Rang  far  across  the  plain : 
They  passed  the  happy  Rhine, 
200  They  drank  the  rapid  Main. 

Through  Asiatic  jungles 

The  Tartans  filed  their  way. 
And  the  neighing  of  the  war-pipes 

Struck  terror  in  Cathay.  3 
"  Many  a  name  have  I  heard,"  he  thought, 
"  In  all  the  tongues  of  men, 
67 


Full  many  a  name  both  here  and  there, 

Full  many  both  now  and  then. 
When  I  was  at  home  in  my  father's  house 
210  In  the  land  of  the  naked  knee, 

Between  the  eagles  that  fly  in  the  lift 

And  the  herrings  that  swim  in  the  sea, 
And  now  that  I  am  a  captain-man 

With  a  bravv  cockade  in  my  hat  — 
Many  a  name  have  I  heard,"  he  thought, 

"But  never  a  name  like  that." 

III.   THE    PLACE    OF    THE    NAME. 

There  fell  a  war  in  a  woody  place. 

Lay  far  across  tlie  sea, 
A  war  of  the  march  in  the  mirk  midnight 
220  And  the  shot  from  behind  the  tree. 

The  shaven  head  and  the  painted  face. 

The  silent  foot  in  the  wood, 
In  a  land  of  a  strange,  outlandish  tongue 

That  was  hard  to  be  understood. 

It  fell  about  the  gloaming 

The  general  stood  with  his  staff. 

He  stood  and  he  looked  east  and  west 
With  little  mind  to  laueh. 


"  Far  have  I  been  and  much  have  I  seen, 
230  And  kent  both  gain  and  loss, 

But  here  we  have  woods  on  every  hand 

And  a  kittle  water  to  cross. 
Far  have  I  been  and  much  have  I  seen. 

But  never  the  beat  of  this ; 
And  there  's  one  must  go  down  to  that  waterside 

To  see  how  deep  it  is." 

It  fell  in  the  dusk  of  the  night 

When  unco  things  betide. 
The  skilly  captain,  the  Cameron, 
240  Went  down  to  that  waterside. 

Canny  and  soft  the  captain  went; 

And  a  man  of  the  woody  land, 
With  the  shaven  head  and  the  painted  face, 

Went  down  at  his  right  hand. 
It  fell  in  the  quiet  night, 

There  was  never  a  sound  to  ken ; 
But  all  of  the  woods  to  the  right  and  the  left 

Lay  filled  with  the  painted  men. 

"  Far  have  I  been  and  much  have  I  seen, 
250  Both  as  a  man  and  boy, 

But  never  have  I  set  forth  a  foot 
On  so  perilous  an  employ." 


It  fell  in  the  dusk  of  the  night 

When  unco  things  betide, 
That  lie  was  aware  of  a  captain-man 

Drew  near  to  the  waterside. 
He  was  aware  of  his  coming 

Down  in  the  gloaming  alone ; 
And  he  looked  in  the  face  of  the  man 
260  And  lo !   the  face  was  his  own. 

"This  is  my  weird,"  he  said, 

"And  now  I  ken  the  worst; 
For  many  shall  fall  the  morn, 

But  I  shall  fall  with  the  first. 
O,  you  of  the  outland  tongue. 

You  of  the  painted  face, 
This  is  the  place  of  my  death  ; 

Can  you  tell  me  the  name  of  the  place  ?  " 

"Since  the  Frenchmen  have  been  here 
270  They  have  called  it  Sault-Marie; 

But  that  is  a  name  for  priests, 

And  not  for  you  and  me. 
It  went  by  another  word," 

Quoth  he  of  the  shaven  head : 
"  It  was  called  Ticonderoga 
In  the  days  of  the  great  dead." 
70 


And  it  fell  on  the  morrow's  morning, 
In  the  fiercest  of  the  fight. 

That  the  Cameron  bit  the  dust 
280  As  he  foretold  at  night ; 

And  far  from  the  hills  of  heather, 
Far  from  the  isles  of  the  sea. 

He  sleeps  in  the  place  of  the  name 
As  it  was  doomed  to  be. 


NOTES  TO  TICONDEROGA. 


Introduction. —  I  first  heard  this  legend  of  my  own  country  from  that  friend  of  men  of 
letters,  Mr.  Alfred  Nutt,  "  there  in  roaring  London's  central  stream  "  ;  and  since  the  ballad  first 
saw  the  light  of  day  in  Scribtiers  Magazine,  Mr.  Nutt  and  Lord  Archibald  Campbell  have  been 
in  public  controversy  on  the  facts.  Two  clans,  the  Camerons  and  the  Campbells,  lay  claim 
to  this  bracing  story ;  and  they  do  well :  the  man  who  preferred  his  plighted  troth  to  the 
commands  and  menaces  of  the  dead  is  an  ancestor  worth  disputing.  But  the  Campbells  must 
rest  content:  they  have  the  broad  lands  and  the  broad  page  of  history;  this  appanage  must 
be  denied  them ;  for  between  the  name  of  Cameron  and  that  of  Campbell,  the  muse  will 
never  hesitate. 

Note  I,  verse  67.  Mr.  Nutt  reminds  me  it  was  "by  my  sword  and  Ben  Cruachan"  the 
Cameron  swore. 

Note  2,  verse  159.     "  A  perhvig'dlord  0/ Londot."     The  first  Pitt. 

Note  3,  verse  204.  "  Cathay."  There  must  be  some  omission  in  General  Stewart's 
charming  "  History  of  the  Highland  Regiments,"  a  book  that  might  well  be  republished 
and  continued;  or  it  scarce  appears  how  our  friend  could  have  got  to  China. 


HEATHER  ALE. 


HEATHER  ALE  :  A  GALLOWAY  LEGEND. 


From  the  boiiny  bells  of  heather 

They  brewed  a  drink  long-syne, 
Was  sweeter  far  than  honey, 

Was  stronger  far  than  wine. 
They  brewed  it  and  they  drank  it, 

And  lay  in  a  blessed  swound 
For  days  and  days  together 

In  their  dwellings  underground. 

There  rose  a  king  in  Scotland, 

A  fell  man  to  his  foes, 
He  smote  the  Picts  in  battle. 

He  hunted  them  like  roes. 
Over  miles  of  the  red  mountain 

He  hunted  as  they  fled. 
And  strewed  the  dwarfish  bodies 

Of  the  dying  and  the  dead. 
75 


Summer  came  in  the  country, 
Red  was  the  heather  bell ; 

But  the  manner  of  the  brewing 
20  Was  none  alive  to  tell. 

In  graves  that  were  like  children's 
On  many  a  mountain  head, 

The  Brewsters  of  the  Heather 
Lay  numbered  with  the  dead. 

The  king  in  the  red  moorland 
Rode  on  a  summer's  day  ; 

And  the  bees  hummed,  and  the  curlews 
Cried  beside  the  way. 

The  king  rode,  and  was  angry, 
30  Black  was  his  brow  and  pale, 

To  rule  in  a  land  of  heather 
And  lack  the  Heather  Ale. 

It  fortuned  that  his  vassals. 
Riding  free  on  the  heath, 
Came  on  a  stone  that  was  fallen 

And  vermin  hid  beneath. 
Rudely  plucked  from  their  hiding, 

Never  a  word  they  spoke  : 
A  son  and  his  aged  father  — 
40  Last  of  the  dwarfish  folk. 

76 


The  king  sat  high  on  his  charger, 

He  looked  on  the  little  men  ; 
And  the  dwarfish  and  swarthy  couple 

Looked  at  the  king  again. 
Down  by  the  shore  he  had  them; 

And  there  on  the  giddy  brink  — 
"  I  will  give  you  life,  ye  vermin, 

For  the  secret  of  the  drink." 

There  stood  the  son  and  father 
50  And  they  looked  high  and  low ; 

The  heather  was  red  around  them, 

The  sea  rumbled  below. 
And  up  and  spoke  the  father. 

Shrill  was  his  voice  to  hear  : 
"  I  have  a  word  in  private, 

A  word  for  the  royal  ear. 

"  Life  is  dear  to  the  aged, 

And  honor  a  little  thing ; 
I  would  gladly  sell  the  secret," 
60  Quoth  the  Pict  to  the  King. 

His  voice  was  small  as  a  sparrow's, 

And  shrill  and  wonderful  clear : 
"  I  would  gladly  sell  my  secret. 
Only  my  son  I  fear. 
77 


"  For  life  is  a  little  matter, 

And  death  is  nought  to  the  young ; 

And  I  dare  not  sell  my  honor 
Under  the  eye  of  my  son. 

Take  him,  O  king,  and  bind  him, 
70  And  cast  him  far  in  the  deep; 

And  it  's  I  will  tell  the  secret 
That  I  have  sworn  to  keep." 

They  took  the  son  and  bound  him, 
Neck  and  heels  in  a  thong, 

And  a  lad  took  him  and  swung  him, 
And  flung  him  far  and  strong. 

And  the  sea  swallowed  his  body, 
Like  that  of  a  child  of  ten  ; — 

And  there  on  the  cliff  stood  the  father, 
80  Last  of  the  dwarfish  men. 

"  True  was  the  word  I  told  you : 

Only  my  son  I  feared ; 
For  I  doubt  the  sapling  courage 

That  goes  without  the  beard. 
But  now  in  vain  is  the  torture, 

'  Fire  shall  never  avail : 
Here  dies  in  my  bosom 
The  secret  of  Heather  Ale." 
78 


NOTE  TO  HEATHER  ALE. 


Among  the  curiosities  of  human  nature,  this  legend  claims  a  high  place.  It  is  needless 
to  remind  the  reader  that  the  Picts  were  never  exterminated,  and  form  to  this  day  a  large 
proportion  of  the  folk  of  Scotland:  occupying  the  eastern  and  the  central  parts,  from  the 
Firth  of  Forth,  or  perhaps  the  Lammermoors,  upon  the  south,  to  the  Ord  of  Caithness  on 
the  north.  That  the  blundering  guess  of  a  dull  chronicler  should  have  inspired  men  with 
imaginary  loathing  for  their  own  ancestors  is  already  strange :  that  it  should  have  begotten 
this  wild  legend  seems  incredible.  Is  it  possible  the  chronicler's  error  was  merely  nominal  ? 
that  what  he  told,  and  what  the  people  proved  themselves  so  ready  to  receive,  about  the 
PictSj'was  true  or  partly  true  of  some  anterior  and  perhaps  Lappish  savages,  small  of  stature, 
black  of  hue,  dwelling  underground  —  possibly  also  the  distillers  of  some  forgotten  spirit  ?  See 
Mr.  Campbell's  Tales  of  the  West  Highlands. 


79 


CHRISTMAS  AT  SEA. 


CHRISTMAS  AT   SEA. 

The  sheets  were  frozen  hard,  and  they  cut  the  naked  hand; 
The  decks  were  like  a  slide,  where  a  seaman  scarce  could  stand ; 
The  wind  was  a  nor'wester,  blowing  squally  off  the  sea; 
And  cliffs  and  spouting  breakers  were  the  only  things  a-lee. 

They  heard  the  surf  a-roaring  before  the  break  of  day ; 
But  't  was  only  with  the  peep  of  light  we  saw  how  ill  we  lay. 
We  tumbled  every  hand  on  deck  instanter,  with  a  shout, 
And  we  gave  her  the  maintops'l,  and  stood  by  to  go  about. 

All  day  we  tacked  and  tacked  between  the  South  Head  and  the  North ; 
lo  All  day  we  hauled  the  frozen  sheets,  and  got  no  further  fortli ; 
All  day  as  cold  as  charity,  in  bitter  pain  and  dread, 
For  very  life  and  nature  we  tacked  from  head  to  head. 

We  gave  the  South  a  wider  berth,  for  there  the  tide-race  roared  ; 
But  every  tack  we  made  we  brought  the  North  Head  close  aboard : 
So  's  we  saw  the  cliffs  and  houses,  and  the  breakers  running  high, 
And  the  coastguard  in  his  garden,  with  his  glass  against  his  eye. 

83 


The  frost  was  on  the  village  roofs  as  white  as  ocean  foam  ; 
The  good  red  fires  were  burning  bright  in  every  'longshore  home; 
The  windows  sparkled  clear,  and  the  chimneys  volleyed  out ; 
20  And  I  vow  we  sniffed  the  victuals  as  the  vessel  went  about. 

The  bells  upon  the  church  were  rung  with  a  mighty  jovial  cheer ; 
For  it 's  just  that  I  should  tell  you  how  (of  all  days  in  the  year) 
This  day  of  our  adversity  was  blessed  Christmas  morn, 
And  the  house  above  the  coastguard's  was  the  house  where  I  was  born. 

O  well  I  saw  the  pleasant  room,  the  pleasant  faces  there, 
My  mother's  silver  spectacles,  my  father's  silver  hair; 
And  well  I  saw  the  firelight,  like  a  flight  of  homely  elves. 
Go  dancing  round  the  china-plates  that  stand  upon  the  shelves. 

And  well  I  knew  the  talk  they  had,  the  talk  that  was  of  me, 
30  Of  the  shadow  on  the  household  and  the  son  that  went  to  sea ; 
And  O  the  wicked  fool  I  seemed,  in  every  kind  of  way, 
To  be  here  and  hauling  frozen  ropes  on  blessed  Christmas  Day. 

They  lit  the  high  sea-light,  and  the  dark  began  to  fall. 
"All  hands  to  loose  topgallant  sails,"  I  heard  the  captain  call. 
"  By  the  Lord,  she'll  never  stand  it,"  our  first  mate,  Jackson,  cried. 
.     .     .     "  It 's  the  one  way  or  the  other,  Mr.  Jackson,"  he  replied. 

84 


She  staggered  to  her  bearings,  but  the  sails  were  new  and  good, 
And  the  ship  smelt  up  to  windward  just  as  though  she  understood. 
As  the  winter's  day  was  ending,  in  the  entry  of  the  night, 
40  We  cleared  the  weary  headland,  and  passed  below  the  light. 

And  they  heaved  a  mighty  breath,  every  soul  on  board  but  me. 
As  they  saw  her  nose  again  pointing  handsome  out  to  sea ; 
But  all  that  I  could  think  of,  in  the  darkness  and  the  cold, 
Was  just  that  I  was  leaving  home  and  my  folks  were  growing  old. 


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